


Magical Soup

by gloria_andrews



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Bottom Louis, Brief mentions of the consumption of firewhisky, Experienced Harry, Fluff, Hate to Love, Hufflepuff!Harry, Light Angst, M/M, Muggleborn!Harry, Polyjuice Potion, Relationship Discussions, Romance, Slytherin!Louis, Virgin Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_andrews/pseuds/gloria_andrews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown.  Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea.  As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magical Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thispieceofmind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispieceofmind/gifts).



> I've been informed that I broke the rules of how the Room of Requirement works, so be warned going into it!!! Sorry if that takes you out of the story! I meant no Harry Potter disrespect.

Louis was nearly late to potions the first day of term.  He’d encountered a sniffling, hopelessly lost first year in a corridor after lunch and had ended up leading them all the way to the bottom of the astronomy tower out of a sense of duty as a prefect, giving them a nice, comforting squeeze on the shoulder before sending them up the stairs. It meant he had to hightail it back across the castle in order to get down to the dungeons before the bell, and he skidded through the doorway with less than a minute to spare, winded and sweaty, with his robes in disarray.

As it turned out, Professor Argento was still taking inventory at the front of the room, marking down the various numbers of cauldrons and phials and mortars and pestles she’d soon be handing out to students, and she most likely wouldn’t have even noticed if Louis had been tardy, anyway.  He was relieved he hadn’t been, though. Louis hated being late. It always left him with a vague feeling of lingering guilt, even if it didn’t really matter.

He adjusted his fringed with a flick of his wrist and then straightened out his prefect’s badge while he looked around for an open spot to sit. There were several other Slytherins in NEWT level potions, but they were all sitting together already, unfortunately. Louis broke into a smile when he saw a miraculously open seat next to Niall at a table in the second row. (Niall was in Hufflepuff, but he and Louis were childhood friends from home.  Louis would rather have sat next to him than Matty Martin or Cornelia Werther any day. He’d have rather sat by Niall than pretty much anyone, really.)

He took a deep breath and was just starting toward Niall when he was jostled abruptly to the side, almost clipping his hip on one of the tables.

“Oh, sorry, mate,” Harry Styles said, looking back at Louis as he made his way up the aisle, actually late for class and clearly entirely unbothered about it. Harry winked before plopping down into the very chair Louis had been intending to take. “Didn’t see you there.”  

Louis huffed in irritation and pointedly refused to respond.  A flush that had everything to do with annoyance and nothing to do with Harry’s wink colored his cheeks as he turned to look for another seat, shuffling over to the only available spot next to Dexter Agger.

_Since when is Harry fucking Styles going for a NEWT in potions?_ Louis thought, as he plunked his little bundle of parchment and books onto the table in front of him with a grumpy flourish.

Realistically, Louis knew Harry must have been in the other potions section last year. Professor Argento had combined the two groups since the class took up a double period for their final year, and quite a few students had dropped the course over the summer due to the level of difficulty. Louis was surprised that someone like Harry Styles had gotten the prerequisite O on his OWL to begin with, though. He ignored the small twinge of guilt in his stomach at the realization that he’d underestimated Harry. It wasn’t Louis’s fault, really! He hadn’t had a class with Harry Styles since third year care of magical creatures, but it appeared to him that Harry seemed to invest all his available time and energy into pulling pranks, planning secret drinking parties, and seducing as many of their fellow students as he possibly could. Boy or girl. So, Louis couldn’t really be blamed.

“Potionnnnssss!” Louis heard Styles bellow enthusiastically. He lifted his head and frowned, watching Niall and Harry high five and grin happily at each other. Professor Argento was watching them too but with a fond smile on her face instead.

_Typical._ Louis thought, rolling his eyes.

Everybody in bloody Hogwarts was enamored with Harry Styles. Teachers and students alike. Louis did not get it. Well, he sort of got it. Harry was outgoing and cheeky. Charming, was the apparent consensus. That was the part Louis took issue with. The charm. In Louis’s opinion, it was more like Harry was a smarmy attention hog with no respect for authority who flirted with absolutely everyone and could probably get away with murder just because he had like, absurd dimples and twinkly green eyes.    

The twinkly eyes. Louis rolled his own again at the thought of it. There was the real source of Styles mass appeal. He was good-looking, very very good-looking.  He’d always been cute, in an angelic sort of way, with his darks curls and apple cheeks, but he’d shot up the summer between fifth year and sixth and come back to school all slinky and broad shouldered and lean, his baby fat melted away. A bunch of the girls had started calling him “Hottiepants Harry from Hufflepuff” and of course Harry was aware of it, the smug bastard. It was ridiculous.

Professor Argento finally finished up with the inventory, setting her quill and parchment down before clapping her hands to call class to order. “Welcome, welcome,” she said warmly, leaning against the front table as she surveyed the students before her. “This is NEWT level potions for seventh year students, I hope no one is in the wrong place.”

Niall made to get up, like he was indeed in the wrong place, and Harry gave an appreciative, rumbling laugh, as if it was the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen. Louis had been laughing too, but it died in his throat a little upon Harry’s response. It was childish maybe, but even all these years it made Louis just a bit sad he and Niall hadn’t ended up in the same house. They didn’t tend to see each other all that often during the school year, and it would have been nice to sit next to him for once.

“I hope you’re all excited for the new term,” Professor Argento went on, casting an affectionately exasperated look at Niall as she handed out pieces of parchment the listed the course’s parameters. “We’ll be working on a challenging new recipe almost every week, and you’ll be expected to create an original potion with a practical use as your final project.”

A murmur of nervous excitement rippled through the class and the professor chuckled.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be all alone,” she said, smiling gently. “I’ll be pairing you off. You'll have the same partner both for class time and for work on the project, so you can get a feel for each other’s brewing styles and play to your strengths.”

Louis shifted in his seat, glancing over at Dexter and wondering if Professor Argento would just pair everyone off by table.  Dexter was fairly clever for a Gryffindor, but Louis felt a sinking mixture of disappointment and increased annoyance in his gut. If he’d only gotten there a little earlier, maybe Styles wouldn’t have stolen his spot! He might have had a chance to work with Niall!

He was so busy stewing and glaring at the back of Harry’s head that he didn’t notice Professor Argento had started pairing people off alphabetically, or that students were starting to mill about around him, moving to sit by their new partner. Not until she’d called his name, apparently for the second time.

“Tomlinson, did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” He said absentmindedly, lifting his chin to meet her gaze.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re with Styles, Louis, get a move on!”  

Louis’s heart plummeted to his feet, his head swiveling quickly to look at Harry up at the front of room.   _Of course._ Louis thought, a strange tingling sensation running through his body along with a rush of irritation as their eyes met. _Of fucking course._ Harry’s full lips curved into a crooked smirk, and he gave a single, careless wave that Louis did not return. He got to his feet instead, beginning the slow trudge across the classroom, because of course Harry Styles had made no move to meet him in the middle.

_What an excellent start to the year._ Louis thought darkly.

*

“Styles is not that bad, Louis.” Zayn said, after classes had ended, hours later. They were sitting in the library with Liam, ostensibly working on transfiguration homework, but so far Louis had spent the majority of the time whining about the horrible potions partner misfortune that had befallen him.

Liam snorted, giving Zayn a disbelieving look across the table. Louis felt a little surge of affection for his friend. Liam seemed to be the only other person in all of Hogwarts that Styles hadn’t ensorcelled with his charms.  Maybe it was because he and Liam were both in Slytherin. They could see through to a person’s true motives! The darkness within!  Styles was all about self-aggrandizement, that was truth.  

“Not that bad?” Liam asked, his voice rising into an incredulous squeak at the end. “What about last spring??”

Zayn huffed out a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Oh come off it, Li, that was fucking funny.”

Liam’s eyes widened in outrage. “Easy for you to say! You didn’t have a vested interest! Was a distraction for the players, is what it was!”

The previous May, Harry Styles had streaked the pitch during the last Quidditch match of the season. Louis felt a frustrating heat rise to his cheeks, just remembering. He’d been the first to see Harry that day. Swooping down into a low-hanging patch of mist on his broom, sure he’d just seen a glimpse of the snitch, Louis had discovered a damp, very naked Harry Styles instead.  Harry had smiled one of his cheeky, slow spreading grins, his eyes dancing as Louis hovered in the air in front of him. He’d raised a finger to his lips, in a silent request that Louis stay quiet, and they’d stared at each other for several beats, before Harry winked and then he was gone.  Louis had sat stunned in the fog, listening to the delighted roar of crowd as they spotted Harry pelting across the pitch.    

_So fucking cheesy_. Louis thought, angry all over again at the memory. _With his stupid winks. Who winks like that? Arseholes, that’s who._   

It had been Slytherin against Gryffindor that day, the Quidditch Cup on the line, and it made Louis sick to his stomach sometimes, thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t snapped out of it in time to snag the snitch.  The humiliation! Too busy gaping at Harry Styles to play the game!

_I wasn’t staring, anyway, not really._ Louis reassured himself. _It was just a shock, that’s all, seeing him like that.  An inconsiderate distraction. Like Liam said._

“It was actually pretty impressive, I thought.” Zayn said, tapping his quill on his parchment thoughtfully. “I mean, he must have use some kind of mad difficult charm to pull that off! I know you were playing Lou, but even Professor Cashel couldn’t get any clothes to stay on him! It was brilliant!”  

Louis scowled, everyone acted like Styles was some kind of bloody folk hero because he’d managed to stay naked and upright for over three quarters the length of the pitch. He’d finally been felled by a well aimed leg binding spell just before he’d reached the hoops at the north end of the field. “Yeah, so impressive he lost Hufflepuff the House Cup.”

Zayn scoffed and pulled a face. “Okay, you know that’s not true,” he placed a hand on his chest, fingers resting lightly on the Ravenclaw crest on his sweater, “we’d had it locked up for weeks at that point.”

“Well, it’s the principle of the matter, Malik!” Louis protested, louder than he’d intended. He lowered his voice to a snooty whisper. “As a fellow prefect, I’m disappointed in you.”

Zayn burst out laughing again, his eyes rolling before they squinted up in amusement. “Oh god, Tommo. I’m wounded.”

“I just want someone who’s going to take things somewhat seriously,” Louis grumbled, slumping down in his seat with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

Liam gave a sigh of commiseration, patting Louis on the back. “That is completely understandable, Lou. Completely understandable.”

*

Louis made it a point to head down to potions extra early on Wednesday afternoon. Maybe it was the Slytherin in him, but Louis had always loved being in the dungeons by himself. Liked the remote sense of privacy they provided, the way the light filtered in through the partially subterranean windows, the dank tang of the air. He found it all strangely comforting.  

He liked taking his time getting ready to brew too, positioning his materials just so on the table: mortar and pestle, scales, cauldron, phials all in a precise row. It had taken nearly the entirety of the previous class period to distribute supplies and review potion-making safety guidelines, so this would be their first chance of the year to actually get down to business, and Louis wanted to enjoy it as much as he could before Harry Styles got there.

Which was why the hair on the back of his neck raised up in frustrated irritation when he waltzed through the door to the classroom and found that Harry was already there. He’d beaten Louis to it and was hunched over, taking care to make sure their scales were properly balanced, everything else already spread out on their designated table. 

“What --” Louis bit out, catching himself before he said something completely rude.

Harry looked up then, eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, obviously just as surprised to see Louis as Louis was to see him.

“Oh,” Harry said. There was a small note of pleasure in his voice that irritated Louis further for some reason, made his heart jump slightly. Harry straightened up to his full height, smiling. “Hi.”  

“Class doesn’t start for fifteen minutes,” Louis pointed out, shifting awkwardly under Harry’s gaze and crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry huffed out a laugh. “Yeah... I know.”

“Does Professor Argento know you’re down here?” Louis asked. “Because usually she only lets --”

“The prefects come in early...” Harry finished for him, nodding. He shrugged sheepishly, a hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I know that too.”

“So --”

“She lets me come in, like, special, I guess?” Harry said, returning his attention to the scales in front of him. “‘Cause I like to set things up in a particular way.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so you just get to decide how we’re going to lay everything out then, huh?” He asked, annoyed. He could already tell that Harry liked the cauldron closer to the middle of the table top than he preferred. Probably because of his absurdly long monkey arms.

Harry’s eyebrows raised right back and then smirked, snorting out a single chuckle. “Well, what are you doing down here if you weren’t going to prep the station yourself?” He asked in amusement.  “Doesn’t seem like you cared too much about my opinion, either.”  

Louis fish mouthed, his brows knitting together and his face growing hot. Harry was right, they both knew it, and Louis absolutely hated getting caught out.

“I would have asked you when you got here…” He said weakly.

Louis felt annoyed that he was the one being made to feel guilty when he and Harry had both admitted to doing the same thing. Harry looked entirely unburdened though, happy even, peering up at Louis as he continued to fuss with the scales. Maybe it was because Louis also knew, deep down, that if he’d set everything up by himself he’d have just expected Harry to thank him for doing so.  He might have even lorded it over Harry a little, like he wasn’t pulling his weight. 

Louis had definitely not expected Harry to have any cherished ideas about potions prep, was all. Harry had been mostly quiet after they'd been paired together the other day, letting Louis taking charge.  Louis had stashed their supplies in their assigned storage slot while Harry looked idly on, smiling one of his cheesy, too-big smiles every time their eyes met.  

“Well, come on then,” Harry said, nodding him over with another one of those smiles, his eyes bright even in the low light. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Louis moved forward stiffly, his robes swishing a bit.

“Personally,” Harry said, gesturing to the table in front of them with a proud sweep of his arm, “I like to have the cauldron in the center and all the other shit around it, like stationary little planets. But I’m more than willing to take suggestions.”

Louis typically liked things set up like a miniature assembly line, but seeing it Harry’s way, he had to admit that it didn’t look too bad. Especially since the table wasn’t long enough to make skirting around it a hassle. He didn’t want to conceded completely, though, so he sighed heavily and adjusted his fringed with an air of annoyance.

“You’ve got your phial sizes all fucked up,” was what he said.

He wasn’t expecting Harry to laugh at that, much less so obnoxiously loud.

Professor Argento had them diving in to difficult potions straight away that year, starting off with _Felix Felicis_. She began class that day with a brief lecture about the dangers of brewing the potion and on ethical usage, should their batch mature correctly over the next six months, and then she set them to work immediately.

Maybe after seeing Harry’s carefully constructed potions station set up, Louis shouldn’t have been quite so surprised at how skilled he was at brewing, but as they worked together he felt his expectations being subverted once again. Harry had these clever little shortcuts he liked to use, strange methods for premixing clumps of ingredients together in the mortar that seemed to turn out just right. He concentrated incredibly hard while he worked, his brows dark brown slants above his eyes, and Louis was struggling not to find it too endearing. Thankfully, Harry wasn’t subverting his expectations in other areas.

“Sooooo,” Styles chuckled, waggling his eyebrows at Louis in a suggestively goofy manner while Louis measured out the correct quantity of dittany extract, “Liquid Luck…”

“Mmmhmm,” Louis replied, distantly, focused on the task at hand.  He rolled his eyes. _Typical._

“You ever get lucky, Louis?” Harry asked, biting his lip over a smirk, eyelashes batting slowly in exaggerated flirtation.

Louis’s hand stilled on the bottle of dittany, his lips pursing in annoyance. Harry obviously thought the answer was no, based on the knowing and superior expression on his face. What was worse was that he was right.  Louis was almost 18 years old and he’d never even kissed anyone before.

“We can’t all be as worldly as you, Styles,” Louis replied, aiming for a tone of unimpressed boredom before pouring the dittany into their simmering potion.

It wasn’t that Louis wasn’t interested in sex and romance.  He was! It was just that pickings were slim at Hogwarts for anyone of discerning taste, much less if you happened to be gay.  Louis didn’t fancy Lucas Brock or Dylan Hibbard or Michael Smith all that much, Paulie Reeves absolutely gave him the creeps, and he refused to snog anyone in Gryffindor as a matter of pride, so that ruled out Dashiell Hersch, as dreamy as he might have been. Louis didn’t have the energy to suss out queer boys from lower grades, he was too busy with schoolwork!

Louis was surprised at the look Harry was giving him when their eyes met again. It was soft, almost understanding, and completely devoid of judgment. It made something skitter in Louis’s stomach, his heart rate picking up.

_Harry’s always a possibility._ A sly voice murmured in the back of his head. Louis forced it quickly from his mind, breaking their eye contact immediately to refer to the recipe. If Louis was going to kiss someone, after all this time, he wanted it to mean something, was the thing.

“Ok,” Louis said, charging ahead with the potion-making to distract himself from the tug of attraction he’d just felt, “says stir lightly, counter clockwise for four minutes...”

He dipped his wand into the potion to start the step, pleased that Harry started the timer without being asked.  

“I usually get the best results for a light stir when I move my wand like a whisk,” Harry said, coming up beside Louis at the cauldron, their shoulders brushing lightly.  

Louis pulled a face. “What the fuck is a whisk?”

Harry’s only response was to laugh, but Louis suspected it was at himself.  He was blushing a touch, like he was a slightly embarrassed.    

“How do you whisk?” Louis demanded impatiently, genuinely baffled.

His breath caught in his throat as Harry’s long, tapered fingers closed over the wrist of his wand hand and guided it fluidly in the shape of a small ellipse.

“Like that,” Harry whispered, a small smile on his face, his eyes twinkling. He continued to stir with Louis, his hand remaining where it was. “Sorry. It’s a cooking thing, a whisk...  Sometimes I still forget.”   

Louis nodded. He felt a shiver run down his back from the way Harry’s breath moved past his ear.  They were standing so close together.

“It helps with potions a bit,” Harry said softly, leaning almost imperceptibly closer, “being muggleborn.”

Louis swallowed thickly.  Harry’s thumb was right over his pulse point, and Louis wondered if he could feel the way Louis’s heart had started to race.  He wondered if their close proximity was having any effect on Harry’s heart rate at all.  His stomach gave a dangerous lurch at the realization that he definitely hoped it was.

“How --” Louis cleared his throat, “how does it help?”

Harry was about to answer when the timer went off, startling them both, and they jumped apart. Louis blinked rapidly and set his wand on the table, staring down at it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.  His heart was thumping in his chest and gooseflesh had broken out his arms.  

Before he could get it together to follow up about Harry’s muggleborn advantage, Professor Argento clapped her hands and told them to start packing up for the day, hollering reminders about how to properly use their cauldron covers to avoid spoilage.

“What does she take us for? Third years?” Harry asked in mock dismay, addressing the entire class as he and Louis tidied their station. He carefully hefted the cauldron into his arms and started an indignant march across the room toward their cubby.  “Misuse of a cauldron cover? Amateur error if I’ve ever heard one!”  

Niall started to cackle as he joined Harry by the storage slots. “What a beginner mistake!” he crowed in delight. “Have you no faith in us, Professor Argento?” 

“Don’t you ‘beginner mistake’ me, Horan,” Professor Argento said with a snort, her eyes full of mirth as she marked him and his partner off as having successfully stored their potion. She glanced over at Harry, who’d moved to stand next to Niall. “Need I remind you both of your little _Strengthening Solution_ Incident last year, hmmm?”    

“We were improvising! Experimenting! Trying to advance the science!” Harry protested, his eyes lit up, an impish grin spreading on his face. “You don’t want to put a cauldron cover on creativity, do you professor?”

Argento began laughing outright as she swatting at Harry with her rolled up parchment. “I’ll put a cauldron cover on you, you little monster.”  

This time Louis laughed along with everyone else, his usual irritation at Harry Styles’s antics oddly absent.

* 

A few weeks later, Louis and Harry were meeting in the library after dinner to work on their final project for the second time. Harry was running a bit late, unsurprisingly, so Louis snagged them a table by the potions resources and started on some arithmancy homework while he waited. His mind drifted to Harry as he worked.  

The more they brewed together, the more and more impressed Louis had become with Harry as a potioneer. It had gotten to the point where he suspected that Harry might be the best at potions in all of Hogwarts, maybe the best in a generation.  He seemed to have an almost scary intuition about how to tweak a recipe just right to get the best results, and Louis had to admit that he was actively excited to be working with him on developing an original potion.

Louis was having a bit more difficulty admitting to himself that he might actually like Harry as a person, too. Harry was constantly trying to get a rise out of Louis. He’d do things like steal Louis’s prefect’s badge with an elementary charm and then innocently inquire about its whereabouts before giggling and giving it back, or rearrange their phials on the table so they were in the shape of a dick and balls and then smirk at Louis while he waited for him to notice.  Last Wednesday he’d started teasing Louis about the supposedly overly impeccable state of his hair.

“How do you get it to stay like that even when you’re leaning over the cauldron?” Harry had asked, his own curls wild and frizzy from the humid air rising off their _Amorentia_. His eyes had narrowed in suspicion. “Are you using some kind of magical pretty-hair pomade, Louis?  I know they sell that stuff on Diagon Alley.”

Louis had snorted and rolled his eyes.

“There’s no shame in that!” Harry had said, holding up his palms like he was withholding judgment, his eyes still shrewd slits. “It must be magic though, otherwise it wouldn’t look so soft still...”

Louis had adjusted his fringe self-consciously then, pointedly ignoring Harry as he added another ingredient to the pot and feeling relieved that the color already on his cheeks from the heat of potion had disguised his blush. 

“So, if I ruffle it up, it won’t go back to normal then?” Harry’d asked, arching a brow and fighting a grin. 

“Don’t you dare!” Louis warned, wide-eyed. 

Then Harry had chased him around the table laughing at Louis’s shrieking protests until Professor Argento told them to stop.

_Insufferable_. Louis thought, as he move onto the next problem on his assignment, trying to ignore the fact that he’d come to look forward to potions more than any other class. Failing to ignore that there was this little spark of anticipation in his gut whenever Harry got a certain look in his eye.  

He’d tried to complain to Zayn about Harry during transfiguration that morning, moaning about how Harry had nearly messed up his hair, and Zayn had burst out laughing. 

“Wow, Louis.” He’d said sarcastically. “All that special attention, how very frustrating for you.”

Louis had huffed in protest, but he’d been blushing furiously and feeling incredibly transparent and devoid of self-awareness.  Zayn seemed to make him feel that way a lot. 

“I’m in Ravenclaw, I’m so perceptive,” he murmured, mocking Zayn under his breath and then cursing because he’d blotted his arithmancy homework with ink.

He almost jumped when Harry suddenly set his books down on the table. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry said, sounding harried as he slumped down in the chair across from Louis. “Niall and I almost lost our entire batch of fire --” he cut himself off suddenly, shifting uneasily, “of fire... ball candies...” he finished unconvincingly.

Louis burst out laughing, rolling his eyes. “I know about your still, Styles. It’s fine.”

“Oh,” Harry said, sagging with relief. “Just thought, you know… you being a prefect and all…” he sighed deeply and gave a rueful laugh. “We tried lacing the fire in earlier on this time, almost ruined it completely, instead!”  

It was common knowledge amongst the students that Niall and Harry had been distilling firewhisky in the Hufflepuff Dormitory since fifth year. Most of the prefects turned a blind eye because some of them also liked to go the parties they threw when it was time to drink it. Louis never went though, no matter how often Niall asked.

Louis made a soft sound of surprised understanding, something having clicked into place in his brain.

“Of course you’re good at potions,” he whispered to himself, barely loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Hmmm?” Harry asked.  He was fussing with his jumper, still settling into his chair.  

“It's nothing. I just --” Louis paused, realizing that although what he was about to say was sort of a compliment overall, it might also be a little insulting to Harry, and it didn’t cast Louis in the most flattering of lights. He shrugged, continuing anyway. “I just realized that I shouldn’t have been so -- Well, so surprised that you’re so good at potions. Not really. I mean, making firewhisky involves like, pretty complicated magic, and you guys started that what? Two years ago?”

Harry didn’t seem to have taken offense. He just chuckled once, scooting his chair so he was snug against the table. “Did you think Niall was doing all the work?” he asked.

Louis laughed and shook his head, a little abashed, a little nervous, blinking at Harry as he spoke. “I -- I guess I wasn’t really thinking at all, is the thing. And you are. Good. At potions. Very good.”   

Harry laughed again, scratching at his nose, his cheeks tinged pink. “So are you,” he pointed out.

Louis shook his head. “No, it’s not the same.”

The sat together in awkward silence for a moment before Harry opened his mouth to speak, probably about to suggest they got down to business and started working on the project. 

“What did you mean the other day,” Louis asked quickly, before Harry could, “when you said being muggleborn helped with potions?”

Louis had been wondering about it since Harry had said it, but he kept missing chances to ask.

“Oh,” Harry said. He looked a bit startled that Louis had remembered but pleased, too, his eyes bright. He rubbed at his brow, like he was contemplating what to say, leaning back in his chair slightly. He smiled. “Well. Mostly, I think it helps just ever having cooked.”

Louis nodded, wondering if he would elaborate and hoping that he would.

“I mean, I think one of the reasons I love potions so much is that it’s --” Harry stopped, and shook his head, like he couldn’t quite organize his thoughts. “I guess really it’s that I think like, besides like electricity and you know, fancy computers and airplanes and shit, cooking is the closest muggle thing there is to magic? I mean... yeast makes bread rise and it’s magic, of a sort.” His eyes lit up further and he pointed at Louis. “Or like, with the firewhisky, the distillation process, that’s mostly muggle and then like, we add magic steps to it. And with potions, it’s sort of the same. I mean, there’s extra magic that we add in obviously, but anyone could put those ingredients in a pot, whether they were magic or not.”   

Louis smiled and looked down at his hands on the table while Harry spoke. Harry looked so nice, discussing something he clearly loved. He looked happy, just at being given a chance to talk about it. It made Louis feel squirmy and warm inside.  

“I used to help my Gran,” Harry explained, his voice low, “after school, when I was young and my parents were still at work. We’d cook together everyday. Bake something or make dinner. She would always say that recipes were more like guidelines, really.” He shook his head, and laughed quietly. “When I found out about the magic, she was so proud of me. Fascinated. Every time I’d come home for Christmas or for the Summer, she knew potions was my favorite, and she’d always ask, ‘Did you make any more magical soups, Harry?’”

It wasn’t until later that it occurred to Louis that Harry had been speaking in the past tense. At the time he felt like he was responding entirely to the tight sort of way Harry was forming his words, as if he needed to keep cutting himself off in order to contain his emotion.  Louis knew there shouldn’t really be a comparison, but it reminded him very suddenly and very strongly of himself, talking to Niall the summer they were twelve years old and struggling not cry when he explained that his family’s ancient and beloved owl, Beelzebub, had died while Niall had been visiting Ireland the previous week.

Before Louis knew what he was doing, he’d reached across the table and taken Harry’s hand in his own.

It surprised them both, and their eyes met quickly, locking together as they stared at each other for a long moment. Louis’s heart was absolutely racing, his skin tingling where he and Harry were touching, and he almost snatched his hand back in knee-jerk embarrassment. But then Harry closed his eyes and tangled their fingers together further, squeezing Louis’s gently.

“She died, your Gran?” Louis asked carefully, his voice sounded strange and faraway through the rush of blood past his ears. His breastbone had started to ache.

Harry nodded, smiling sad and crooked with his eyes still closed. “Yeah,” he breathed out with a sigh, “last winter.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis said, swallowing thickly.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, he opened his eyes again, they were a little wet. He laughed again. “She was quite old.”  

“Still.” 

Harry just scrunched up his face and nodded, he didn’t say anything else.

Louis felt like his heart had permanently lodged up in his throat. Sitting in the library, holding hands with Harry Styles because his grandmother had died, it dawned on him that he and Harry were actually, maybe, friends.

“Should we get to work, then?” Harry said at last.

Louis nodded, his hand still tingling even after Harry let go.

They spent the rest of the evening discussing which base potions and basic ingredient combinations would work best for their purposes, having mutually agreed that they were both most interested in creating something medicinal the last time they’d met.  

Louis's thoughts kept circling back to the lingering tingle in his hand, though, to the sharp little spark he’d felt when Harry had squeezed his fingers. It filled him with a sweet, scary sort of hope that made it difficult for him to fall asleep when he climbed into bed at the end of the night. He might already have been looking forward to potions the next day.

*

It was spitting a cold rain the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and Louis and Zayn ducked into the Three Broomsticks as soon as they reached the village, eager to ease the chill in their bones with a warm butterbeer. Louis’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted Niall and Harry tucked up in a booth nearby, laughing merrily. He busied himself with shaking the raindrops off his jacket before hanging it on the coatrack by the door, pretending he hadn’t seen the two of them but hoping Zayn would suggest they went over to say hello at the same time.

“Oi, Tommo!” Niall called out immediately, making that unnecessary. He beckoned them both over. “C’mere. I need you to explain to Styles how ridiculous he looked as a pumpkin, he doesn’t believe me!”

Louis meandered over to their table with Zayn trailing behind him, trying not to smile too wide as he went. His heart leapt a little again when he saw the expectant way Harry was looking at him, his pretty doe eyes moving over Louis’s face while he waited for his response. Louis swallowed hard. Harry looked very nice in his muggle clothes, broad shouldered and perfectly proportioned in his cashmere jumper, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. 

“You did,” Louis said simply, sliding into the booth next to Niall as Zayn sat down next to Harry. “You looked ridiculous.”

Harry made a little clucking noise of dissent. “But everyone looked ridiculous!” he objected. “That was the point!”

Professor Argento had let the class brew Pompion Potion that Wednesday, as a special treat for Halloween and also because they were ahead of schedule on their potions for the term and she was proud. They’d picked five students to test the brews on, and it had been wonderfully entertaining seeing the differences in the pumpkin versions of their heads. Harry in particular had a whole mess of curling vines growing out of the top of his, and Professor Argento had laughed so hard when they sprouted that she’d nearly cried.

“Sorry, mate.” Louis said, chuckling with Niall. “You looked the most ridiculous of all.”

“Toldja,” Niall said, triumphantly, his butterbeer sloshing about. He grinned at Harry’s grumpy frown.

“I’m almost surprised you didn’t have pumpkin dimples, if I’m honest,” Louis said, laughing. His stomach fluttered at the little touch of pink that bloomed on Harry’s cheeks at the comment.

They ordered another round of butterbeer for the table and then spent the next hour explaining to Zayn about the Pompion Potion and talking about how great Professor Argento was in general.

The next thing Louis knew he and Harry were alone in the booth, Zayn having left to meet Perrie at Madam Puddifoot’s and Niall having drifted off to get another drink and never coming back. He appeared to be deep in discussion with some other members of the Herbology Club by the bar.

“She used to work in potion development at St. Mungo’s before she came to Hogwarts, did you know?” Harry asked in quiet awe, taking a small sip of his drink.  They were still talking about Professor Argento. “Helped formulate an even more precise and efficient _skele-grow_!”

Louis nodded, smiling. He felt a familiar tug of guilt, thinking back to beginning of the year and how he’d mistakenly thought Harry Styles didn’t take anything seriously when that clearly wasn't the case at all.  

_He takes things the right amount of serious_.  Louis thought, sipping his butterbeer.   _It was me who needed to lighten up_.     

“Is that what you want to do, then?” Louis asked. “Healing potions, that kind of thing?”

Harry nodded, his eyes bright, “Yeah, I think so. I’m pretty sure. It’s a bit scary though, isn’t it? Trying to decide. What about you? Will you do something with magical creatures?”

“Oh!" Louis said, amazed that Harry knew that much about him, the fluttering in his stomach kicking up again. “Yeah, I mean, if I can, I want to. How did you --” 

Harry laughed. “How did I know that’s what you were interested in?”

“Yeah.”

“We were in care of magical creatures together, remember? You were the absolute best with the hippogriff, you liked him the most and he liked you back,” Harry said.

“Marvin,” Louis said a little wistfully. Marvin had been released back into the wild at the end of fourth year. Louis knew it was for the best, but he’d cried a little anyway.

“Yeah, Marvin! He hated me,” Harry said, smiling and brushing the curls from his forehead. “I do best with cats, but it’s like other types of animals smell my fear.”   

“Even your owl?” Louis asked, endeared. 

Harry nodded, covering his face in his big hands and moaning out a laugh. “Matilda is definitely the boss of me, not the other way around.” 

They were quiet for a minute, and then Louis said. “I’d really like to work with dragons, I think, but it’s so impractical.”

Harry furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, you should. If that’s what you want.” His eyes lit up.   “Remember, they had that special expo fifth year?  The traveling zoo! Of course you do,” Harry said, scoffing and rolling his eyes at himself. “I just mean, you were the only one that touched the baby Ridgeback... that has to mean something.”

Louis blinked at Harry from across the table, his heart swelling in his chest. “You remember that?”

It had been one of the best days of his entire life.  

Harry shrugged, looking at Louis from under his lashes, his cheeks bright pink. “I remember a lot of stuff…”

Louis wasn’t sure if there was an implied “about you” at the end of that statement, but he thought there might be, and his heart was hammering in his chest because of it.

“Oh,” He whispered, his breath catching slightly.

They stared at each other softly for a few beats and then Harry bit his lip, glancing down at his watch. He cleared his throat. “It’s getting a bit late,” he said, his eyes wide and maybe a little nervous. “Do -- do you want to walk back together?  I have an umbrella.” 

Louis swallowed hard, a flash of heat and adrenaline coursing through his body. He nodded and looked out the window. The rain was still coming down steadily.  

They settled up at the bar and then headed over to the coat rack, shrugging on their rain jackets while Harry fished his umbrella out of the umbrella stand. Louis hoped that Harry hadn’t noticed the herky-jerky nature of all his movements as the got ready to leave. He’d never been this particular type of nervous before. It was a swirling mix of fear and anticipation that made him feel like his nerves were firing at all the wrong times. Louis wanted to huddle under Harry’s umbrella with him and hold his hand over the handle. He wanted -- God, he desperately wanted Harry to kiss him, but he was simultaneously terrified that it might actually happen, so he was trying not to think about it at all. 

“Found it!” Harry said happily, whipping a bright pink umbrella with little yellow duckies all over it out of the stand and nearly taking Louis’s eye out in the process. “Oh shit. Sorry. Sorry. I’m so clumsy.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said, laughing fondly.  He was relieved to have a distraction from his building anxiety as they slipped out of the inn.

“Stand clear, please,” Harry said, chuckling as Louis waited under the awning. “I shall now attempt to open the umbrella without harming anyone.”

He smiled wide when he looked back at Louis, overly proud of himself once he’d succeed. 

“C’mon,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Louis slipped under the umbrella, reflexively grabbing the pole several inches above Harry’s hand, to steady himself and make sure he stayed properly covered. Harry’s presence was so warm and solid next to him, he had to fight the urge to lean against him as they walked.

They went along in silence for a while, the only sounds were the ping of the raindrops on the umbrella and the sloshy crunch of the gravel path under their feet. Louis felt so incredibly alert, hyper-aware of the fact that his hand was slipping down the rickety metal pole, closer and closer to where Harry’s fist was curled around the handle. Any second now his pinky would graze the top of Harry’s hand, and Louis felt such an aching longing for it to happen even though it felt like his heart might beat right out of his chest. 

“I like your umbrella,” He blurted in a whisper, when his hand finally came to rest on top of Harry’s, stacked directly above it on the pole. It was a strange, involuntary reaction, as if by speaking Louis could somehow divert his own attention away from how much further his pulse had skyrocketed at the physical contact.  

“Thank you, Louis.” Harry replied. “My mother bought it for my sister, and she didn’t want it, so now it’s mine.”

Harry sounded so utterly at ease that Louis’s heart fell in disappointed embarrassment.  He’d felt such a crackling tension in the air that it hadn’t even occurred to him that he might be feeling it all by himself.

_Obviously it was all in my head_.  Louis thought, disheartened.   _Obviously._ _  
_

But then Harry’s forefinger came to rest over top of his pinky, wrapping around it, hesitant and slow, and all of Louis’s hope came roaring back at once, a wicked tide of excitement rising in his body. His heartbeat was frantic and his breath came short.  

“Is this okay?” Harry whispered, as he covered Louis’s hand more completely with his own, the rough little calluses on his palm pressing against Louis’s knuckles.

Louis was so absolutely electrified he couldn’t speak. He just nodded quickly, staring straight ahead.

Harry stopped walking just ahead of the last turn before the castle grounds, and Louis automatically halted with him.  

“Louis,” Harry murmured, turning in so that they were facing each other. He lifted Louis’s chin with a gentle nudge of his finger, searching Louis’s face with his eyes.

Louis’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw the carefully way that Harry was regarding him. The dreary afternoon light was even dimmer under the canopy of the umbrella, and it made the contours of Harry’s face seem even more lovely than usual, his cheekbones like softly carved ivory under a delicate pink flush.  All Louis could do was blink up at him in awe.

“Lou,” Harry said, a note of pleading in it this time. His eyes flicked down to Louis’s lips, and he moved his hand to cup Louis’s jaw, beginning to bend down, just about to kiss.

“I --” Louis said, his hand flying up to grip Harry’s wrist and stop him at the last second. Louis went bright red, blushing in embarrassment out to the tips of his ears.

Harry pulled back immediately, his face falling. He looked utterly mortified. “Oh my God, I’m such --” he mumbled, biting his lip and turning his head away. “I am _so_ sorry.  I thought -- I’m so sorry, Louis.” The dejected cant of his posture made Louis feel like his heart was breaking.

“No. Harry. No,” Louis said, miserable. He was such a fool. He turned Harry back to face him and lift his chin this time, coaxing Harry into looking at him again even though he clearly didn’t want to. “I nev --” Louis started again, once they’d finally made eye contact. His breath strangled a little because of nerves. “I’ve never kissed anyone before...” he finished in a vulnerable whisper, fervently wishing that he didn’t have to be such a hopeless dork. He shrugged. “I got -- I got scared.”

He’d been afraid, somewhere deep down, that Harry would laugh at his admission, but he didn’t. Understanding bloomed on his face instead, relief and hope too, and Louis felt a sharp tug of affection deep inside. He hoped he wasn’t getting in over his head because he liked Harry more than he’d even realized. Louis wanted this an awful, awful lot.

“Oh,” Harry said, smiling softly, he brushed Louis’s fringe off his forehead with a trembling hand. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, shrugging and leaning into the touch.  

“Do -- Do you want to?” Harry asked, with a shy smile.  

Before Louis had even finished nodding, Harry’s lips were covering his, firm but gentle and just right. Louis’s existence narrowed down to nothing except the places they were touching and the hot pulse of his blood.  It was exhilarating and perfect and over much too quickly because right as Louis felt the first brush of Harry’s tongue against his mouth, they heard a gaggle of third years coming up behind them on the path, and they had to break apart. 

It was almost worth it for the way that Harry was grinning down at him afterward though, his face openly elated, like he couldn’t believe his luck.  Like he never wanted to look away. 

“I like you,” Harry said.

Louis let out a laugh of pure delight. “I like you, too,” he whispered, tugging on the front of Harry's rain jacket.

They walked the rest of the way back to the castle with Louis tucked into Harry’s side, their hands intertwined on the handle of the umbrella.

“So, tomorrow night, then?” Louis asked, when they’d reached the top of the stairs the led down to the Slytherin Dungeon.  They’d made plans on Friday to work on their potions project in the Astronomy tower on Sunday evening.

Harry nodded in an adorably eager fashion, his curls flouncing.  He leaned forward until his lips were just at Louis’s ear. “I’m going to kiss you again, Tomlinson, just so you know.”

Louis pushed him away, with a roll of his eyes, but he was biting his lip and he knew that Harry had seen him shiver in anticipation at the words.

“Have nice night, Harold,” he said, as he turned to go down the stairs.

Harry blushed at the nickname, ducking his head. “You too, Lou.”  

*

Louis’s pulse raced as he climbed the spiral staircase to the top of the Astronomy Tower on Sunday night, beyond what would have been normal for amount of energy he was exerting to do so.  He was running late, on purpose actually, having talked Quidditch with Liam in the Slytherin common room past the time they had agree to meet because he was so incredibly nervous about seeing Harry again.

_What is wrong with you?_ He chastised himself, as he made his way around the last bend of the stairs, trying to calm his heart. _It was just a kiss. It’s just kissing. You’ll be fine. He didn’t say when he would kiss you again, just that he would. Maybe he didn’t even mean he’d kiss you tonight.  It could be a different night!  Some other night that isn’t this one... Just relax_.

As he reached the top of the tower, he paused a few feet back from the large stone doorway, suddenly regretting his decision to get there after Harry. Now he’d probably have to stand awkwardly in the door waiting for Harry to see that he had arrived, he might even have to be the first one to speak! If he’d gotten there earlier, he could have pretended he was using the telescope, and the he hadn’t even noticed when Harry came into the room. He could have played it cool.

_Yeah, sure you could have._ Louis rolled his eyes at himself and stepped forward through the open door, hovering at the edge of the room.

Harry was sat in the middle of the circular floor, organizing the various pieces of parchment that were spread out all around him, and Louis felt a twist of longing in his gut when he saw the furrowed concentration of his brow and the way he was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he worked.  Louis had been so nervous about seeing Harry again that it had momentarily obscured how very much he wanted to.

“Hey,” he said, as casually as he could manage.   

The way Harry’s face lit up when he lifted his head and saw Louis standing there made Louis feel so happy he went lightheaded for a moment, like his body might just float right up off the floor. He bit his lip over an irrepressible smile.

“Hi,” Harry said. He’d been in a bit of a crouch before, and he shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged, leaning back on his hands.  He gazed up at Louis and grinned at him, beckoning him over.

Louis shuffled forward, dropping down to sit across from Harry with the parchment between them. There was still a faint tremor in his hands as he situated himself, crossing his legs to mirror Harry’s body position, but Harry’s reaction to seeing him had change the nature of his agitation. His nerves were still on high alert, but his anxiety had mostly turned into jangly excitement, and he was eager just to talk to Harry again.

“So,” he said, “what’ve you got for me?” 

“Well!” Harry chirped, his eyes bright. He started to rifle through the stacks of parchment and proudly produced a neatly drawn potioneering experimentation chart, smoothing it out so Louis could look it over.  “We’ve got our warming potion and invigoration draught combo bases along here, and then I added the variations of extra ingredients we discussed along the top, so we can make notes about the results in these boxes.”

Louis nodded. “This is great, Harry,” he whispered, running his fingers down the column of base potions and then across the ingredients at the top.

They had decided to attempt to make a potion version of the _Impervius Charm_.  Something that when ingested, would created a protective, warming layer over the skin for a prolonged period of time and could also be used as a remedy for hypothermia. It was rather ambitious of them, and Louis couldn’t wait to get to the testing phase.

“I brought the ebony,” Louis said, pulling a small block of it from his trouser pocket. They'd planned to spend most of the evening enchanting it for use as a potion toxicity indicator. Once charmed, a single drop of potion that was safe for human ingestion would turn the impossibly dark wood bright red until it was wiped clean again. They had to do a complicated series of spells because of the large variety of ingredients they were using. 

“Okay,” Harry said, rummaging through his notes until he found the list of required charms, “do you want to start then, and we’ll switch off?” He slid the list over to Louis. “I don’t think we can do more than one at a time.” 

Louis nodded and took out his wand. He placed it on the ebony, letting his eyes drift shut as he performed the first incantation. When he opened them again, Harry was looking at him with a strange expression on his face.

“What?” he asked, his stomach fluttering as his pulse ratcheted up. It felt like lately, just being in Harry’s presence prevented him from ever reaching a resting heart rate.  

Harry shrugged and chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing. It’s just. You’re never late. I thought for a minute you weren’t coming...”

Louis blushed. “Oh. I -- I ran into Egglesfield,” he lied, shifting self-consciously. He felt a little thrown by the idea of Harry feeling vulnerable because of him, almost to the point of dizziness. “Had to head the library first and then double back.”

Harry rolled his eyes, snorting in understanding. Aaron Egglesfield was Head Boy. Students in the upper years had been using the Astronomy Tower as a study spot for ages, but Egglesfield always went strictly by the book.  He took house points or gave detentions if he found out you’d done it, sometimes even going far enough to report you to the head of your house. Louis had to be extra careful not to get caught, being a prefect himself.

“I know,” Louis said wryly, rolling his eyes too, “sometimes I’m surprised he doesn’t send us out with rulers every morning, to make sure everyone’s robes are regulation length.”

Harry beamed at Louis, chuckling. “Rules and Regs-y Eggsy,” he sing-songed, with mocking enthusiasm.   

Louis raised his eyebrows, huffing out a laugh. “You know, it’s a point of pride with him that people call him that, you’re playing right into his hands, Styles.”

Harry started to laugh gently and shake his head, warming Louis’s insides with the slow rumble that he particularly liked to be the cause of.

“I shouldn’t make fun,” Louis said, scrunching his face up in grudging remorse as he nudged the block of ebony around with his wand. “I’m just jealous he got Head Boy...”

“It should have been you,” Harry said simply. Like it was a given.

Louis blushed and shrugged.

“No, I’m serious,” Harry said, edging toward Louis slightly. His knees crinkled the paper in front of him. “Everyone thought so.”

“Why, ‘cause i’m just as big a swot?” Louis deflected, as his blush deepened.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Harry said. He pulled a face and reached out to whack Louis on the thigh with the back of his hand. Louis had to fight the urge to grab it and hold on. “And I’m not just saying it because I --” He stopped and shook his head then started again.  “I mean, you’re you... you’re a natural leader -- Shut up, you are! And Egglesfield is an okay guy, I guess, but mostly he’s a pain in the arse. He doesn’t care about fairness or like, loyalty.  There’s a reason we call him Regs-y... I really would have thought they’d have seen through him, the professors,” he paused and then snorted. “My mum did.”

Louis made a sound of confused amusement, his eyes crinkled up at the sides. “What?”

Harry nodded emphatically. His focus was completely narrowed in on Louis, like oftentimes happened when he told Louis a story, and Louis liked it so much.  He liked Harry so much.

“Yeah, we went through to platform 9 and ¾ at the same time last year,” Harry went on, still nodding, “and Egglesfield was like all, ‘Oh it’s so nice to meet you, Harry’s mum.’ to my mum and all that.” He started to laugh again, waving his hands in the air a little bit. “Okay, I know that just sounds polite, but it’s like... he’s all show. Too smooth. After he left my mum gave me this worried look like, ‘are all your friends like that?’”

Louis laughed, but he felt a twisting stab of guilt in stomach, thinking back to the beginning of the year, how he’d thought of Harry as too smooth, albeit in a different way that Egglesfield.  Two months ago he’d never in a million years have thought Harry Styles would have passionate, detailed opinions about who should have been Head Boy, of all things.  And Louis knew exactly what Harry was getting at about the fairness and the loyalty. To Louis, the prefects were ideally there as way for the students to resolve problems without having to go to their teachers. Louis mostly liked to lead by example. He hated the idea of the prefects being seen as a roving band of tattlers, and it made him feel really good that Harry apparently conceived of their purpose in a similar way.

Harry giggled a little, he tilted his head to the side as he looked at Louis, a twinkle in his eye. “I mean, do you really think Aaron Egglesfield would have sat in the fog with me at the end of the Quidditch pitch and not cried bloody murder?”

Louis’s whole body went white hot with arousal as the memory came searing back to him. He ducked his head, his face burning and his blood thundering in his ears. Harry was surely right about Aaron Egglesfield, but for the moment Louis couldn’t have cared less, not when all he could think about was Harry’s naked body in the mist that day.  Harry's skin had looked marble white and dewy at the same time, the breadth of his shoulders balancing out the perfect, lean line of his frame.  He had bounced back and forth from foot to foot, all coiled, potential energy, and Louis had tried so hard not to look at his cock, but of course he had anyway. He’d let his eyes drift down and down and down until he was basically gawking right at it. And that wink. That stupid wink. Fuck.

Louis tentatively lifted his head again, the silence between them having stretched too long, and he sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the look on Harry’s face.  His gaze had gone dark and intent and his cheeks were as rosy red as Louis’s felt.

“Louis,” he breathed out, his voice quiet, but urgent.  His eyes moved frantically over Louis’s face, almost to the point of desperation. “God. I can’t -- I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t.”

Harry went up onto his knees, the parchment on the floor crumpling under them as he leaned in, bending forward over Louis slightly.  Louis just peered at up at him, slack-jawed, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he took increasingly jagged breaths. He thought for a second that Harry was going to keep leaning further forward until he had laid Louis out and covered Louis’s body with his own, but Harry did the opposite instead. He tugged on Louis’s wrist, pulling him upright so they were kneeling chest to chest on the battered parchment and then slipped a large warm hand around to the small of Louis’s back. Louis made a small sound high in his throat at the contact, and Harry responded with a small gasp of his own. He guided Louis forward, pressing their torsos together and then slowly lowered himself backward so he was stretched out on the floor with Louis on top of him, perched between his subtly parted legs, his hands on Harry’s shoulders. 

“You’re so…” Harry whispered, stroking Louis’s face and running a hand through Louis’s hair as he stared up at him. “So…” and then he anchored a hand at the base of Louis’s skull, tilting his head slightly to the side and kissing him deeply.  It was so soft and lush and achingly wonderful. Louis opened his mouth instinctively, sighing into it with a low moan. When Harry brushed their tongues together for the first time, Louis felt such a shimmering bolt of lust run through him that his body jolted, and he whimpered against Harry’s lips. _God_. He was so turned on that he felt almost frenzied by it.

“Lou,” Harry murmured as he kissed down the column of Louis’s throat.  Louis could feel the hard line of Harry’s cock against him, and he ground down, almost experimentally, shivering in pleasure at both the sensation and at Harry’s gasping response. “Oh God. Louis,” Harry moaned, letting his legs fall further apart, wrapping one of them around Louis before bringing their mouths together again.

Louis wondered as they snogged, in a faraway part of his mind, if it was always like this. So frenetic and charged. It felt special to Louis, like it must be rare, so magnetic and electric and chemical that it was almost palpable. His attraction to Harry was so sharp and overwhelming that Harry’s fingers edging up into his jumper and barely grazing over the skin at the base of his spine made Louis’s whole back arch, his breath catching. 

“Is this -- Is this okay?” Harry asked, breaking the kiss to look up at Louis with swollen red lips and tender, glassy eyes. He kept his long fingers brushing against Louis’s spine.   

Louis hummed his assent, relishing the feel of Harry’s touch and sighing happily as he leaned down to kiss him again, his hands deep in Harry’s curls. Louis was so flushed with heat and so rock hard in his trousers.  He wanted so much.  To keep kissing Harry, touching him, moving his hips against him. He never wanted it to end. 

When Harry’s big hands slid down Louis’s back and came to rest on his arse, it became immediately clear that wasn’t a possibility. Louis was so worked up that he was already distressingly close to coming. When Harry moaned outright as he squeezed Louis’s bum, pulling Louis fully against him and grinding their hips more firmly together, Louis shuddered against him and almost came on the spot. 

“Oh. Harry. Haz, I’m --” he panted, feeling embarrassed and out of his depth as he hurtled toward the edge, rocking against Harry quicker and quicker. “I’m --”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Harry whispered back, right into the shell of Louis’s ear. He rolled his hips in time with Louis, breathing heavy. “Christ, you are so fit. I’m close too.”

Harry dug his fingers into the flesh of Louis’s arse one more time, teeth grazing along Louis’s neck, and Louis came in his pants, his orgasm rollicking through him in hot pulses.

He slumped forward on top of Harry, burying his head in Harry’s neck, but Harry lifted him up by the shoulders so he could look at him, taking in his ruined appearance with hungry eyes. He bucked against Louis twice more and then moaned his name, his body locking up in pleasure as he came.

They lay there for a few minutes, catching their breath and breathing each other in. Louis was still slotted between Harry’s legs, his head resting on Harry’s chest beneath his chin, and Harry dropped intermittent kisses into Louis’s hair, humming into it happily. Louis felt a pang in his heart at each kiss, elation and vulnerability mixing together in his gut. He wanted to ask Harry what this meant to him and make sure they felt the same, but he was afraid to articulate his feelings in such an open way. He wasn’t really sure how to, anyway.   

“Don’t think Aaron Egglesfield would have done that, either,” he mumbled into Harry’s sternum instead.

The sharp bark of a laugh it succeeded in drawing out of Harry distracted Louis from his insecurity, and more happiness bubbled up inside him.

“You’d be surprised,” Harry said with a giggle. Louis felt Harry’s body brace in hopeful anticipation of Louis’s inevitable retaliation, and it turned his outraged huff into more of a single, affronted laugh. He pinched Harry’s side as hard as he could and wasn’t able to keep a grin off his face when Harry yelped exaggeratedly in response.

“No. Just joking,” Harry said into Louis’s hair, still giggling softly and running a soothing hand up and down Louis’s back. “I was just joking.”

Louis wanted to lie with Harry like that for the rest of the night, let the steady thump of Harry’s heart beneath his ear lull him to sleep, but the stickiness in his pants was turning itchy and unbearable, so it was probably time to get going.

“Didn’t get much done,” he pointed out, as they clomped down the stairs together, holding hands.

“Yeahhh, I don’t feel too bad about that,” Harry said, stopping on the last step so he could smile at Louis and press a kiss to his forehead. Louis wondered if it was possible for Harry to tell that he had just made him so happy that his toes had curled in his shoes. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

The words echoed in Louis’s head after Harry dropped him off in the dungeons, and he’d gotten cleaned up and ready for bed. _Plenty of time.  We’ve got plenty of time_.  He really hoped that Harry had meant it in more ways than one.

*

Except for a few breathless minutes behind the dusty drapes in the alcove off the history of magic corridor on Wednesday, Louis didn’t get to see Harry all that much outside of class the following week. They’d both been busy with other things, Louis with increasingly intense Quidditch practices due to an upcoming match against Gryffindor and Harry with a pressing herbology assignment, so Louis felt very happy they were holed up in the potions dungeon together on Saturday afternoon, working on their batches of base brews and flirting quite a bit.

“Well, I’m not the one who’s probably using dangerous experimental spells in order to get my trousers on,” Louis blurted out, as he stirred their potion counterclockwise with his wand, looking for a way to distract himself from his mild embarrassment.  Harry had just teased him about using “magic pomade” again, and they’d both blushed with the realization that Harry definitely knew this wasn’t true, due to the completely disheveled state of Louis’s hair both on Sunday night and after they’d emerged from behind the drapery on Wednesday afternoon.

“What?” Harry asked, skeptical but grinning and clearly interested in where this was going.

“I mean, what do you do?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows at Harry’s incredibly tight skinny jeans.  (They weren’t wearing robes since it was the weekend.) “Use _diminuendo_ on your lower body and then reverse it once you’ve got them on?” 

Harry squawked out a laugh from where he was perched on a stool on the opposite side of the cauldron from Louis, his cheeks a little rosy.  

“You can tell me, Styles,” Louis said, glancing at the timer and continuing to stir. “I promise I’d keep your secret safe…”

Harry shrugged and made a face like he was contemplating it, but then he winced and smacked himself on the forehead, cursing.

“Ummm,” Louis said. He came dangerously close to stopping his stirring motion early because of his confusion over Harry’s behavior.

“I forgot the stupid baneberries in my room,” Harry explained, with a groan, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Ah,” Louis said. Harry had picked up some baneberries from Professor Silva during his herbology lesson on Thursday, and they were a very important ingredient in this test version of the potion.  He would just have to go get them.

Harry started to laugh suddenly, shaking his head like he’d gotten an idea. A ridiculous idea.

“What?” Louis asked slowly, feeling curious but wary.  

“You’ve never been in Hufflepuff Common room, have you?” Harry asked, with a twinkle in his eye. “Of course you haven’t, no one has.” 

Thirty minutes later, Harry was helpless with laughter, sitting on his stool dressed in Louis’s too small t-shirt and trackies and watching as Louis, transformed into Harry with the now-mature _Polyjuice Potion_ they had made in class over a month ago, hopped around the room like an excited penguin, trying to get Harry’s skinnies on. 

“This is impossible!” he huffed out, his newfound curls flopping into his eyes as he struggled. Harry continued to laugh. “You must use magic!!”

“One leg at a time, Louis,” Harry instructed in delight, “just like everyone else.”

Louis turned to glare at him. Harry only laughed more, his eyes almost completely disappearing in crinkles, he was so amused.

“I swear to God,” he choked out, slapping his thigh once, “it’s like, I know you have my face and stuff right now, but you still manage to look like yourself, anyway.”

Louis gave up on the jeans for the time being, his chest heaving as he turned to look at Harry. The touch of fondness in Harry’s voice as he said it made his heart flip over in his chest. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, because he couldn’t resist and knew it wasn’t.

Harry shook his head silently, smiling warmly. He waved Louis’s over. “C’mere, I’ll show you... it’s best to do it like tights.”

Louis waddled over, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder and stepping out of the trousers so Harry could assist. Harry’s skin was warm under the tissue thin fabric of Louis’s old t-shirt and standing mostly naked between his spread legs felt very intimate, despite Louis’s current physical state. Even more so when Harry took Louis’s right ankle gently in hand and guided his foot through the correct opening at the bottom of the bunched up fabric.

“See, you sort of get ‘em like nylons...” Harry murmured, tapping Louis’s left ankle to indicate that he should switch his weight to his other foot, now that it was successfully in the jeans.  He paused and looked up at Louis. “Do you know about nylons? Or are they just for muggles?”

Louis shook his head. “No.” he whispered, staring down into Harry’s big eyes, a little mesmerized. “No, I know what nylons and like, tights are... My little sisters, they wear them sometimes too.”

It had been exciting, striping down to his underwear before he took the _Polyjuice Potion_ , knowing that someone could walk in at any moment and feeling Harry’s eyes on his body as he handed over his neatly folded clothes. Which he’d only bothered to fold because of nerves.

“See, now you’ll definitely know how I put my trousers on, Louis.  Absolutely no magic required,” Harry had said, so happily proud of himself.  He kept giggling, clutching Louis’s clothes to his chest. “I’m really holding back here... not making any jokes about you going to such great lengths just to get into them.”

“I think that definitely counts as one,” Louis’d said tartly, though he was suppressing a grin.  He crossed his arms over his chest because he felt a little self-conscious about his nipples tightening in the cool air, and given Harry a pointed look. “And this was your idea!”

This was even more exciting though, thrilling even, having Harry slowly pull the trousers up his body, yanking firmly on the denim when it wouldn’t budge.  It might have been infantilizing, being dressed like some sort of overgrown toddler, but it wasn’t, it felt remarkably personal instead.  Quietly special.  It was as if the fact that Louis’s body now looked like Harry’s had allowed Harry to lower his guard, had allowed them both too, and although his heart was racing, Louis had never stood so close to Harry and felt quite so comfortable before.  The height of the stool Harry was sitting on meant his eyeline was level with Louis’s new chest, and Louis wanted to bend down and close the slight distance, kiss Harry all over his curls.

Harry peeked up at him when the jeans had finally been pulled up over Louis’s hips, waggling his eyebrows a bit.

“Left or right?” He asked, a hint of a cheeky smirk playing on his lips.

Louis’s breath caught at the implication and a hot zip of arousal ran down his spine. “You tell me, ” he whispered, trying to play it cool, the effect of which was ruined by his voice cracking slightly on the last word.

Harry just laughed softly and shrugged. Louis shivered, his breath catching even more, as Harry tucked it carefully to the left with his long fingers.  He could feel the warm puffs of Harry’s breath raising gooseflesh on his stomach as Harry finally buttoned the jeans and tugged the zipper into place, and he felt so intensely happy he almost squirmed. They stood there together in silence for a moment as Harry surveyed his work. 

“Okay!” Harry said at last, clapping Louis on the hips in apparent satisfaction. “Good job, team!”  

Louis laughed and rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for Harry’s jumper, which Harry gleefully turned over.

“All right,” he said, as Louis tugged the clothing on. Louis tried not to inhale too deeply, but it was difficult.  Everything smelled like Harry.  Even he smelled like Harry -- warm with a little bit of spice and a hint of the honeywater they'd just used in their potion. It was odd, but so so nice.  “Now, you know where the barrel is right? And you have the rhythm down?”

Louis nodded with a sigh after his head had popped out the top of the jumper. Harry had coached him about thirty times already on how to get into the Hufflepuff basement, how the passage to the boy’s dormitory was to the right in the common room, how his bed was to the left of Niall’s (which you could immediately spot because of the enormous Irish flag he had hanging from the bed’s posters), and how the baneberries were in the chest at the foot of his bed on top of a stack of muggle books. 

“I remember all the stuff, Styles. Relax,” Louis said, jumping in place a few times to test out his longer legs before starting for the door.

“This is a very big deal, Louis!  I hope you realize!” Harry called after him, sounding like a nervous parent.  “Very few non-Hufflepufflers have been in the basement! Don’t waste any more time, we don’t know when the juice’ll wear off!”   

Because of the temperamental nature of the potion, they had no way of knowing precisely when the it was going to stop being effective.  If he and Harry had brewed a poor batch, Louis might be standing right in the middle of Hufflepuff common room and morph back into himself.  He didn’t think that would be the case, but they’d wasted about fifteen minutes mucking about and getting Harry’s jeans on him, so it seemed best not to delay.   

Even with Harry’s words echoing in his ears, it didn’t fully hit Louis that he actually, really looked like Harry until he’d jogged up and out of the dungeons and encountered some third years outside the Great Hall. It was as though he’d been so preoccupied with the excitement of being physically close to Harry that the reality and purpose of the situation had slipped his mind.  But then these kids started elbowing each other and whispering when they saw him coming, and Louis felt momentarily befuddled until he heard the smallest one hiss, “ _That’s Harry Styles!_ ” and everything fell into place.

_Like he’s some kind of bloody celebrity for fuck’s sake._ Louis thought, rolling his eyes as he hurried past them.

That was another thing that had slipped Louis’s mind as of late, he realized -- how big of a deal Harry was around school.  Being around Harry on an almost day-to-day basis, it was easy to forget.  Harry was so personable, and genuine.  He was self-confident, but he wasn’t arrogant, and Louis had lost track of the fact that the very first person he’d managed to snog was a bit of a legend amongst their fellow students. 

It made Louis’s heart constrict a little, insecurity washing over him as he turned another corner and headed down the kitchen corridor where the entrance to the Hufflepuff basement was located.  This was maybe the most exciting thing Louis had ever done in all of his seven years at Hogwarts.  Illicitly thrilling to the point that it even felt bigger than winning the Quidditch Cup!  Non-Hufflepuffers just didn’t go in the Hufflepuff basement! They were more particular about it than Slytherin even!  Louis had felt strangely honored that Harry had even suggested it, like he was Harry’s specially appointed secret agent, but as he waved to another group of students who’d happily recognized Harry, he started to wonder if this was all that significant to Harry, after all.  

Harry Styles wasn’t just distilling firewhisky in his dorm and streaking across Quidditch pitches, he was organizing Hogwarts ghost dance-offs and finding baby mandrakes with correctly pitched cries so they could be used at Christmastime for a shriller but vastly more entertaining version of Carol of the Bells. During fifth year, Harry had spent all of first term playing matchmaker for the Hogwart’s portraits so he could rearrange them to be near their loved ones the night before Valentine’s Day. Everyone who came down to breakfast early the next morning had gotten quite an eyeful. (“I never needed to see Sir Cadogan that way...” - Liam)

_I’ll remember this forever._  Louis realized, biting his lip as he strode toward the barrels at the end of the corridor on Harry’s stilt like legs. _Will he? He will, won’t he?_

He knocked out the syllables to Helga Hufflepuff’s name when he found the correct barrel, his heart heavy with the idea of being the sixth or seventh best story in Harry’s arsenal of amazing stories.  It made him feel unsettled and vaguely nervous, and as the the top of the barrel slid open to reveal the steps down to the basement, he realized it was because he wasn’t too sure about how Harry felt about him overall, either.   

_He likes you._ He reassured himself as he descended down the warmly lit staircase.  He felt confident of that at least, Harry had said so himself and he’d been so kind and sweet, but they’d barely seen each other that week.  What if it didn’t mean the same thing to Harry? What then?  For all Louis knew, Harry had gotten off with someone in the Astronomy Tower loads of times and hadn’t felt any kind of strong emotional attachment to them afterward! 

Louis felt disoriented when he emerged into the Hufflepuff common room, abruptly jolted from his thoughts by the chorus of greetings that rang out upon his arrival. It was a bit of a culture shock. Coming into the Slytherin dungeon you were mostly lucky to get a nod of acknowledgement or a little wave, much less a verbal hello.  And for a basement, it was surprisingly bright, not a trace of silver-green eeriness to be found. 

He waved back weakly, his eyes darting around to find the door to the boy’s dormitory.  He felt skittish and weird, like a clear impostor.  As if any second now Paulina Song was going to narrow her eyes and demand to know if he was really Harry.  He bumped his hip against one of the many sofas on his way across the room as a result, and everyone chuckled like that was classic Harry.  It didn’t relax Louis in the slightest.

Niall was sitting on his bed when Louis finally found the seventh years’ dormitory.  Harry had been less than specific about the strange, branching tunnel system that Louis would have to navigate to get to it, and he was relieved to see his friend as immediate confirmation he was in the right room.

“Hey Ni,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sank to his knees in front of the pinewood chest at the foot of Harry’s bed. 

“Hey,” Niall said, looking up from the book he was reading with a quizzical and appraising look on his face.

Louis flushed immediately, barely resisting the urge to reach up and pat his face to make sure he hadn’t changed back into himself.  A quick glance at his hands confirmed that no, he was still most definitely in Harry Styles form.

“Ni?” Niall asked, scrunching up his face in amusement.

Louis turned to look at him, clutching the pouch of baneberries in his hand as he closed the chest.

“Yeah…” he said slowly, remembering too late that only Niall’s family members and people who knew him from home ever called him that, “Ni.”

Niall snorted. “Ok buddy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?  I thought you were spending all day on your romantic plan for your boyfriend…”

Louis absolutely froze, the blood draining slowly out of his face. He swallowed over the sharp lump in his throat, hoping that Niall wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart had just broken clean in half. _Boyfriend. Harry has a boyfriend? That can’t be right..._

“Potions,” he choked out, holding up the berries.

“Oh okay,” Niall said, still looking thoroughly confused.  He shrugged. “You were just so excited yesterday, I thought...” he sighed and shook his head, setting his book on his well made bed.  “I’ll see you at dinner then?”

Louis nodded robotically, overly quick and jerky as he got to his feet.

“I’ve got--,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve got to get back.”

“‘kay, mate,” Niall said, flopping onto his bedspread. “Tell Louis I said hi.”

Louis nodded, hurrying out of the room and straight out of Hufflepuff house without acknowledging anyone else, so thankful that his eyes didn’t quite well up until he was up the stairs and safely out in the hall. He ducked quickly behind one of the larger stacks of barrels and pressed his palms into his eyes as he tried to come to terms with this new information.

_Potions and homework. And a little snogging. Potions and homework. And an orgasm. That’s it.  That’s what I am…_ He thought, miserably knocking his head back against the brick wall, a little anger flaring up inside him. _And the romance is for someone else...Well, sorry to disrupt your plans with even more homework!_

Louis took the long way back around to the dungeons, purposely avoiding the Great Hall and the corridor by the library so he didn’t have to see any other students.  He was trudging, really, trying to console himself before he saw Harry again, but it didn’t seem to be working. He just couldn’t reconcile the Harry that seemed so considerate and aware of the fact that Louis had never kissed anyone before with this person who would do so even though he was already committed to someone else.  Did they have some kind of open relationship?  Louis didn’t want to judge, but he was anyhow.  That type of thing was clearly not for him.

He felt his body shifting back to normal just as he reached the bottom of the rear stairs to the potions corridor.  The same burning, bubbling feeling moved over his skin as when he’d first taken the juice, his spine shrinking like a collapsing spyglass until Harry’s skinnies were dragging on the floor as he walked along.  When he turned into Professor Argento’s room and eased the door shut behind him, Louis’s heart clenched at the thought of how happy he’d been, some forty five minutes before, when Harry had tugged the trousers up his body.

“Lou!” Harry said, looking gorgeous and frustratingly endearing as he jumped to his feet with bright eyes, Louis’s trackies only reaching mid-calf. “Did you turn too early?”

Louis shook his head, tears of embarrassment pricking at the back of his eyes.  Why did he have to like Harry so very much?

“What’s wrong, then?” Harry asked immediately, a concerned look etched on his face, his brows furrowed.  

Louis was unable to speak as he handed the baneberries out to Harry, who looked increasingly stricken the longer the silence went on. Louis just kept standing in front of him fidgeting, his heart absolutely aching.

“Lou?”

Louis sighed heavily.  He shifted his weight from foot to foot.  Before this horrible moment, he’d always thought that he was one of those strong silent types, the kind of person who could successfully suppress their emotions so that no one else was the wiser.  This was apparently and humiliatingly not the case.

“I --” he started, the sadness that welled up inside of him tightened up his throat.  He shook his head, peeking up to look at Harry.  He had settled back on the edge of his stool, his green eyes at their widest and most distressingly lovely.  Louis balled his fists up in the too long sleeves of Harry’s jumper for a modicum of comfort. “Do -- Do you have a boyfriend, Harry?” he finally managed to ask.  The sheer effort of posing the question made him want to dissolve into a puddle of despair on the floor.  Or drown himself in their long neglected and clearly ruined anti-hypothermic base potion.

“What?” Harry asked in alarm, his eyes darting all over Louis’s face.  He rubbed his forehead with his middle and forefingers. “I’m -- I’m confused…”

Louis looked at him skeptically, wincing in unhappiness but soldiering on. “I mean.  I didn’t realize.  And like. We never talked about it... So it’s fine, I guess...if you do, but --”

Harry leapt up off his stool, closing the distance between them and taking Louis’s face in his trembling hands. “What are you talking about?” he asked, looking aggravatingly close tears, his voice small as he continued. “Is this some kind of a trick question?”

“I-I,” Louis got out, his heart rabbiting in his chest. He relished the feel of Harry’s hands on his skin so much, even though he knew he should start discouraging that type of thinking sooner rather than later. “Ni -- Niall was reading in your dorm and he saw me -- as you -- and he asked why you were there when he’d thought you were planning something romantic for your boyfriend all day…”  

Harry let out what sounded like a relieved huff of breath, sagging against Louis slightly and chuckling ruefully. He looked down at Louis with such affection in his eyes that Louis felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart.

“Louis,” he said gruffly, one of his big hands settling on the small of Louis’s back.

“What?” 

“You are so thick,” Harry murmured, with a small smile.  He rolled his eyes, and pressed a lingering kiss to Louis’s forehead before he pulled back and gave Louis a stern, meaningful look.

“Oh,” Louis squeaked, pleasure and relief spreading through his whole body so quickly he felt like his knees might give out. A secondary flash of embarrassment followed and his cheeks went hot. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Harry said softly, dropping a sweet kiss to Louis’s lips.  

He looked slightly embarrassed when they broke apart again, sighing. “He was just teasing me because he knows how much I like you…” Harry made quiet noise of disappointment, as he brushed Louis’s sweaty fringe out of his eyes. “I know you love magical creatures... and I’d talked to Professor Van Den Heuvel this week, and he said they had a top secret hippogriff’s egg and it was probably hatching today.  I did a bit of muggle/bigfoot encounter research for him this summer, so he promised to let me know the first sign of a crack in the shell.  And I was obviously going to take you with me to watch it hatch… I like, packed us food and everything, but now Professor V doesn’t think it’ll happen until tomorrow,” he explained, sheepish and clearly a tad peevish that Niall had ruined the surprise.

“Oh,” Louis said, again, feeling touched and completely overwhelmed that Harry would have planned something like that for him. “I thought -- i mean, I’m not --  You’re so much --  I don’t know, cooler than me.  And more experienced.  I thought like --”  

Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me? Oh my god, Louis. I’ve had a massive crush on you since we were twelve!  Everyone knows.”

Louis gaped at him, disbelieving.

“I’ve always acted like the biggest knob around you! you must have noticed!” Harry said, laughing.  His cheeks were a nice light pink. “I mean, I’d get so nervous and make a completely fool of myself all the time.  I’ve literally winked at someone like five times in my entire life and four of those times were at you!”

Louis was suddenly so incredibly swamped with affection that he couldn’t hold back, and he surged forward, looping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him for all he was worth.  He walked Harry back until he was sitting on the edge of the stool again, so he could stand between the vee of Harry’s legs. With Louis in his natural physical form, their eyelines were almost even this time, Harry’s only slightly lower.

“I really like you, too,”  Louis whispered when they broke apart, resting one hand lightly on Harry’s chest and bringing the other up so he could brush a thumb over Harry’s cheekbone, then let it dip down into his dimple. “Ev-everything about you. 

“Do you --” Harry began, cutting himself off and ducking his head, squirming a little on his seat.  Louis’s heart was pounding and he could feel Harry’s hammering under the palm of his hand.  When Harry started to speak again he was peering up at louis through his lovely eyelashes, his voice tentative and almost unfathomably soft. “Would you be my boyfriend, Louis?”  

Louis started nodding before he could even get it together to speak, smiling so wide his face hurt.

“Yes,” he finally managed to get out at last. “Yes.”  

The way Harry’s face lit up in response made Louis’s feel like he was glowing and that his heart might burst from happiness. 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, absolutely beaming at him.

“Yeah,” Louis said again, still nodding, giving Harry’s tummy a playful nudge. “Of course.”

He felt so full of light, buoyantly giddy, and he gasped in happy shock when Harry pulled him into a heated kiss, licking into Louis’s mouth like he wanted to stake a claim. Louis couldn’t help but moan, shuffling forward so they were pressed together, chest to groin.

“God,” Harry murmured against the skin of Louis’s throat, his big hands settling on Louis’s arse, just where Louis wanted them. “Thought about this so much… your -- your body, Louis…  You…want you.” 

Louis was so turned on, his whole body felt flushed and heated, his cock already fattening up and almost full in his trousers.

Harry’s trousers. He realized.  Louis was still wearing Harry’s trousers. He was still wearing Harry’s all of Harry’s clothes, actually. He glance quickly over his shoulder at the door to the room to make sure it was closed and then turned his attention back to Harry, kissing him quickly to build up a little courage.

“Does -- does that door lock automatically when you shut it?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as innocent as possible while Harry kissed him behind the ear.

Harry sat back on the stool, gazing up at Louis with blurry eyes and rosy cheeks. He looked pretty and horny and incredibly hot.  He started to laugh.  It was deep and delighted, and Harry hugged Louis to him as it rumbled out of him, making Louis feel even more happy and wanted. Safe.

Harry leaned over, snatching his wand of the nearby table. “ _Colloportus_ ,” he intoned, aiming the spell at the door. He grinned at Louis, squeezing his hips. “There. Now we don’t need to worry.”

“Just thought,” Louis whispered back, his heart fluttering. He meant to aim for cheeky, but a nervous chuckle escaped his throat, and he couldn’t help but blush furiously. “Y-you helped me get into your trousers…  N-now you could, you know, help me take them off…” 

Harry let out a sharp bark of a laugh, and then they dissolved into giggles together at the ridiculousness of Louis’s proposition. At the same time, Louis felt the way Harry’s hands had tightened further on his hips, clutching at them as his eyes darkened, and it sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, a sweet, hopeful ache washing over his whole body.

“Did -- did you mean it?” Harry asked hoarsely, after they’d finished laughing. Everything was suddenly very hushed and serious. 

Louis nodded, swallowing thickly as he looked down at Harry.

Harry shuddered out a sigh and slid his right hand up Louis’s back, urging him gently forward so he could bring their lips together again. It made Louis’s heart stutter, how he could feel Harry’s hand trembling between his shoulder blades, how Harry’s kissing had gone a bit more frantic and less controlled because he must have been nervous, just like Louis. He kissed Louis until they were both breathless, running his hands up and down Louis’s back and palming at his arse.  Louis pressed closer and closer, fully hard, his hands deep in Harry’s curls.  

When Harry finally broke the kiss there was a dark pink flush on his cheeks that deepened to red when he took Louis in, his eyes moving slowly over Louis’s face and then his body in the too big clothes.  

Harry’s lovely black Hufflepuff jumper came down to mid-thigh on Louis, the smart yellow trim swallowed up where the sleeves had been bunched up at his wrists. It was wide at the neck too, and dipped down low enough that one of Louis’s collarbones was on display.  The waistband of the trousers was too large for his slight frame, but the jeans clung to his thick thighs just right and Harry groaned, lifting up the jumper to get a better look and cursing under his breath as he reached out for a feel.

Harry’s awestruck attention was making Louis squirm in the best possible way, revving his arousal up further and further the longer it went on.  By the time Harry looked up at him with the hem of the jumper in hand and an unspoken question on his face, Louis was so dazed with lust that his response was delayed several beats. In the end he covered Harry’s hand with his own, helping him pull the soft cashmere up and over his head.

“Oh, Lou,” Harry breathed out, once Louis’s naked torso was revealed.  Harry had seen most of Louis’s body earlier in the day before he’d taken the _Polyjuice_ , but this time it was much more intimate. Louis’s blood felt like electricity in his veins because this time, Harry was going to touch.  

Louis practically shuddered in anticipation before Harry’s hands were even on him, letting out a small whimper when he finally felt Harry’s large warm palms skate up his sides, across his chest and down his back, strong fingers playing over his ribcage and sweeping over his tummy. It was like Harry wanted to feel him all over, every inch of exposed skin, all at once.

“Louis, you’re so gorgeous…  I can’t believe…” Harry whispered.  He settled his hands at Louis’s waist as he leaned forward to trail wet kisses up from Louis’s bellybutton and over his sternum, licking at a love bite that he’d already left on Louis’s neck.

“Haz,” Louis pleaded, feeling more and more desperate. His skin was flushing hot and cold under Harry’s hands and tongue, little darts of pleasure shooting down his spine at every touch. 

Harry didn’t need much more prompting, he palmed Louis once, where his cock was straining against the front of the ridiculously tight trousers, making Louis’s whole body jolt and curve toward him.  Then he unzipped them quickly, tugging them down Louis’s thighs and helping him step out of them with impressive efficiency.

“You okay?” Harry asked.  He was still sat on the edge of the stool and he looked up at Louis wide-eyed, his hands grazing softly up and down over the bare skin on the outside of Louis’s thighs.

Louis nodded, feeling unbelievably wide-eyed himself.  “Yeah,” he finally managed, his voice coming out breathy and weak to his own ears. His legs felt like jelly and he teetered forward suddenly so that Harry was supporting a bit of his body weight, his left hand on Louis’s shoulder.

They both laughed softly at that, Harry with such a tender look on his face that Louis felt a lump form in his throat, a powerful surge of emotion mixing in with his desire. 

_My boyfriend_. He thought, floored. _Harry is my boyfriend._ It didn’t seem real that he could have gotten so lucky. 

“Okay,” Harry said. Louis shivered when he realized that Harry had lowered his gaze so he was staring directly at Louis’s crotch.  Louis’s dick looked almost obscene, tenting out his briefs, a patch of dampness visible where it had leaked at the tip.

“Fuck,” Harry said, breathing out heavily as he reached out to run his knuckles along it through the fabric, a light, teasing touch.

Louis sucked in a sharp breath and sagged a bit more, glad that Harry was still supporting him with his left hand. 

“Gonna get my mouth on you, okay?”  Harry asked, glancing back up at Louis.

Louis nodded rapidly, his heart pounding so forcefully and quick that he almost couldn’t differentiate between beats, like someone had accelerated it to the hilt, pedal to the metal, and it might just shoot right out of his chest.

Harry stood up and guided Louis backward until he was leaning against one of the potions tables.  Then he dropped to his knees, peeling Louis’s briefs down as he went.

“Oh my God,” Louis moaned, his hips bucking slightly as Harry gave his stiff cock a few smooth, experimental pulls. He’d already felt so close to the edge just from Harry admiring his body, much less touching him with his big, paw-like hand. Louis took a deep, jagged breath.  He was embarrassingly close to coming and also to hyperventilating, which would be even worse.

“It’s okay,” Harry murmured, reassuringly, moving his hands to the tops of Louis’s thighs and rubbing little circles in the soft flesh.  “It’s okay.”

Then he took Louis into his mouth.

Louis let out half a shout, moaning as his hands closed over the side of tabletop behind him for better support. This was like nothing he had ever felt before -- warm and wet and almost infuriating in how emphatically and overwhelmingly good it was, even though it wasn’t quite good enough.  Not yet. Louis just wanted more of it, so much more, as much as he could possibly get.

Harry seemed happy to give it to him, moaning himself as he took Louis deeper and deeper, his tongue running hot and wet along the underside of his dick. Louis was grateful that Harry’s hands were now holding his hips, because otherwise he’d have been fighting a lot harder not to thrust into the perfect heat.

“Harry,” he choked out in a whine, one of his hands now twisted into Harry’s curls, the other still gripping the table.  His breath was coming in fierce little pants, and he gasped and shuddered as Harry tongued at his slit and then sank his slick mouth back down his cock.  He'd started to bob his head in earnest, and Louis felt that almost there feeling building again. It grew sharper and sharper, sparking low in his gut and at the base of spine until he came hard, rolling his hips once as he shot off down Harry’s throat with a wincing, drawn-out moan before he’d even had a chance to warn him.

“Fuck,” Louis gasped, still collapsed against the potions table, breathless and twitchy when Harry finally pulled off.  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” he tugged Harry to his feet, mostly by his hair, and then apologized profusely for that and for everything. He kissed Harry deeply when he only laughed softly in response, shivering all over again at the taste of himself on Harry’s tongue.

“Was that all right?” Harry asked, his face buried in Louis’s neck.

“Are you joking?”  Louis demanded.

Harry’s huffed out laugh was cut off when Louis snaked a hand between them so he could rub at Harry’s erection through the trackies.

“Just w-wanted --” he stammered, groaning because Louis had gotten brave and slipped his hand into Harry pants to stroke him steadily.  Christ, Harry was so big. “Just wanted to be sure, since I know -- I know it was your f-first time…”

“Hazza,” Louis said, touched by Harry’s sincerity and concern.  He tilted Harry’s head back with his free hand and looked him directly in the eyes, “of course it was all right. It was better than all right.  I -- I really… I really do like you. Very much, Harry.” 

That’s when Harry gasped Louis’s name and came, his body shuddering against Louis's as he did.

“That’s it,” Louis said soothingly, running his hand up and down Harry’s back as he recovered.

Harry kissed Louis softly, and then they giggled together when he _scourgified_ Louis’s messy hand for him after he eased it out of Harry’s pants.

“Shall we switch back clothes?” Louis asked, suddenly cognizant of the fact that he was very naked, the chill of the dungeon made even worse because of his evaporating sweat.

Harry pulled a face and shook his head, and Louis laughed. He felt vibrantly happy as he tugged on his briefs and Harry’s skinnies, loving the feel of the soft cashmere jumper and the way that Harry was waiting to kiss him again immediately after his head had popped out the top.

“We didn’t get any work done,” he pointed out, starting to sense the beginning of a pattern.

“Nope,” Harry said. He smiled down at Louis and he brushed Louis’s hair out of his face, his other hand warm on Louis’s back.  “I’ll probably remember this forever though, so…”

Louis blushed, his heart too full in his chest. “I know I’ll never forget,” he whispered. “Never.”  

*

Louis could see sweat beading along Harry’s hairline as he concentrated on stirring the potion in the cauldron between them. Fifteen turns of the pot, clockwise. He mustn’t lose count. Louis was keeping track in his head while Harry did so out loud.  

“Eleven...twelve…”

It was Monday, the first day of exams, and Harry and Louis were finally presenting their original potion to Professor Argento.  It was meant to be something of a dry run for the required practical component of the NEWT, so she was observing them both with hawk-like focus and taking detailed notes on their execution of each step of the recipe they had submitted as part of their written report.  A well brewed, functional potion was essential, but points could be lost for sloppy technique or lax safety standards as well.

Which was why Louis was staring, hard, at the single bead of perspiration that had broken away from the pack and was now trickling slowly down Harry’s forehead.  If that little drop of sweat took a strange zigzag and somehow missed Harry’s eyebrows, it might slip right off his face and plip! plop! end up right in the brew.  This was a problem because first, they might get docked hygiene points (which they’d never even considered when they’d done a practice run the day before, Louis had never seen Harry so terribly nervous in his life!), and second, Louis would probably laugh.  At the very least he would snort, and given Harry’s heighten state of anxiety that really might throw him off his game.  Further off his game.

“Thirteen...fourteen…”

Harry faltered, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he couldn’t remember the number that had literally just come out of his mouth.  

“One more,” Louis whispered quickly, his heart pounding and Harry’s forehead sweat completely forgotten.  This was the last step of their recipe, they were almost there! “One more.”

_Knew I should have done all the stirs._ He thought, shaking his head internally, but nodding encouragingly at his boyfriend.   _I keep better track._

Harry snapped out of it just in time and moved his wand around the cauldron once more, both of them exhaling in relief when it was finished.  

“Okay, gentlemen,” Professor Argento said, her lips quirked in a small smile.  She reached into the pocket of her robes and produced a small block of ebony, which she had previously enchanted to reveal whether their potion was well-brewed and functional, based on the recipe and the intended uses they had given her.  She set it on the table next to their cauldron.  “A strongly positive result will show a nice pale lilac in under a minute. Louis, do you want to do the honors?”

Louis nodded, too nervous to speak.  He stepped forward and dipped his wand into the potion with a shaking hand before flicking several drops onto the black wood block.  Then he took a deep breath and raised his head to look at Harry while they waited.

As soon as their eyes met, he knew Harry was thinking the same thing: wouldn’t that have been nice to have one of these particular types of enchanted ebony blocks earlier, when they'd been forced to switch-off as guinea pig for each one of their experimental formulas over that past month and a half.  They didn’t know magic advanced enough to create one, though, and their third to last trial run had gone particularly poorly when the brew had turned Louis’s skin into shiny silver scales for over forty five minutes.  Which had in turn caused Harry to have a minor meltdown about their impending failure at potions and therefore life in general. (“How can you be worried about whether we’ll pass or not when I’ve turned into an frost salamander!” - Louis)  

Luckily, two days before, they’d finally calibrated the ingredients just right and everything had come together at last.  (Thank God the recipe didn’t require an incubation period!)  It was still nerve wracking waiting for the result though, and it comforted Louis knowing that both he and Harry were thinking about how he’d recently been a superficial reptile.

Harry winked.  Louis chuckled silently and bit his lip.

“Harry, Louis,” Professor Argento said warmly, lifting the lilac block and holding it up for them to see, “congratulations!”

Louis had to bite down on his lip even harder to prevent from skirting the table and launching himself at Harry for a hug and kiss. He just felt so proud, of both them as a team, but of Harry in particular.  It had been Harry who had found the solution in the end, mixing in a touch of Belladonna extract to soften the effect of the baneberries.  

_My boyfriend, the genius_.  Louis thought, staring into Harry’s lusty eyes from over top the cauldron.  Nothing turned Harry on more than academic triumph, it was one of the many things they had in common.   

“I’m awarding both of your houses fifty points, lads,” Professor Argento went on, and they swiveled their heads to look at her in surprise, blushing simultaneously at the rather knowing look she was giving them.  Perhaps Louis could have gotten away with a kiss after all.

Professor Argento looked proud too, though.  Very proud.  “This is the most complex potion I’ve seen created by students since I started here fifteen years ago,” she said.  “In fact, I question whether I could have come up with it myself.  I am incredibly impressed and hope both of you will at least consider going into potions after you graduate in the spring.”

The boys grinned at each other again. 

“Harry, I know you’ve nearly got an apprenticeship all lined up at St. Mungo’s this summer, but Louis, let me know if you want me to put in a good word.  It shouldn’t be difficult, seeing as I’ll be telling them about your _Impervious Solution_ as soon as I get the chance.”   

“Oh,” Louis croaked, stunned, his mouth having gone a little dry.  He was primarily bowled over and honored that Professor Argento would want to tell healers and professional medical potioneers about their potion, but there was also a flickering itch of surprise creeping up his spine about Harry’s apprenticeship. He and Harry had talked about how much Harry loved potions and the types of potioneering he might want to do if he got the chance, but Harry had never said anything about St. Mungo’s.  In fact, they hadn’t talked about the future in concrete terms nearly at all, and the realization made Louis feel queasy, a little knot of insecurity beginning to from in his stomach.“I’m--I’m not sure…”

Professor Argento waved away his concern. “That’s completely fine, you have more than enough time to think it over.  Just let me know if you decide?”

Louis nodded, then looked down at his shoes where they peeked out from under his robes. 

“All right, I’m heading to the infirmary to show this to Professor Caldwell.  I trust you can clean up after yourselves,” she said, bottling up a little sample of their potion and securing it with a stopper. “Congratulations again, I’m very proud of you both.” 

Harry and Louis stood together in silence as Professor Argento swept out of the room, waiting to hear the click of her boots fade fully away down the corridor.

Harry’s face split into a wide, wolfish grin once they had. “C’mere or I’m coming to get you,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Louis snorted and rolled his eyes, but he quickly met Harry halfway round the potions table, letting his boyfriend gather him up into his arms. He thought Harry would kiss him straight away, but he lifted Louis off the ground and spun them both around in a circle, laughing gleefully, instead.  

Harry was so happy.  Louis was too, but that was part of the problem.  He could feel the little knot of insecurity growing denser as they twirled around, becoming heavier still when Harry bent to kiss him at last, because the degree to which Harry made him so incredibly happy was what was scaring him.  

_I love him._ Louis realized, pressing his body against Harry’s and slipping his hands into Harry’s now familiar curls. _I am already in love with him._

It felt so dangerous, because although Harry was always openly affectionate and considerate, he’d never once mentioned where he thought their relationship was going, or if he expected it to last after they left Hogwarts for good at the end of the school year.  Louis had been trying not to think too much about the strength his feelings for Harry for weeks now because it seemed like every time he allowed himself to indulge, he felt things that ran much deeper than a month and a half of dating should really warrant.  He knew that he felt serious, heavy things for Harry. The kind of intense emotion that made his heart constrict with longing, even when Harry was right there studying with him in the library and kept kicking him under the table every few minutes just so he could smile at Louis when he looked up at him.  Louis couldn’t deny it to himself any more, though.  He was in love with Harry.  That’s what it was.  And he didn’t know if Harry loved him back or if he ever would.

“All right, Louis?” Harry asked, when Louis pulled back from his embrace.

Louis wanted to clear the air right then, ask Harry about the apprenticeship and find out exactly how serious he wanted their relationship to be, but he kept hearing his Grandmother’s words echoing in his head. _Be careful with those muggleborns, Louis_. _They always settle down so late._ He knew it was a stupid stereotype, mostly based on age-old pureblood prejudice, but right now he was feeling like a cliche himself.  Typical little pureblood wizard with ridiculous dreams of forever with his first boyfriend, practically wanting to get engaged straight out of Hogwarts and be married with a baby, settled in Godric’s Hollow with matching jobs in the Ministry by the time they were twenty-two.  Harry probably wanted to live a little.  He probably wanted to explore the wizarding world as a fully licensed wizard, for the first time. He probably didn’t want to be tied down by a long distance relationship while Louis was off doing what? Chasing dragons in Romania?  

Louis was afraid to find out.

“Yeah,” He whispered distractedly, pulling Harry down to kiss him again. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He wasn’t though, really.  He wasn’t fine at all.  Over the next few days, the seed of insecurity in Louis’s belly grew roots, entrenching itself inside of him so that it was never far from his mind.  Sometimes he’d momentarily lose track of why he felt vaguely worried, but then it always came back a few seconds later, a quick flash of fear in his heart.  

He didn’t mean to let it affect his behavior toward Harry, but he couldn’t help it.  Looking at his boyfriend made him ache, and Harry had caught him staring with a pitiful expression on his face three times by Tuesday afternoon.

“Is everything okay?” He’d asked, each time, and Louis had brushed it off, claiming he was only nervous about his transfiguration exam on Thursday.

Louis purposely avoided Harry for most of Wednesday and then didn’t sit with him at dinner that night.  He wedged himself in between Perrie and Zayn at the Ravenclaw table instead, pretending that he didn’t notice the strange looks they gave him as he sat down or feel Harry’s confused gaze from across the Great Hall on the back of his neck. Louis sat at his own house table almost exclusively, was the thing. He felt it was his duty as a prefect.  He’d only begun to make the occasional exception since he and Harry had started dating because Harry tended to get homesick for the Hufflepuff table after too many days in a row at the Slytherin one.

His plan to evade thoughts of Harry by evading him backfired, though, because Perrie and Zayn kept talking across him about how excited they were to visit each other in their hometowns over winter break.  Harry and Louis wouldn’t be seeing each other over Christmas hols, they hadn’t even talked about it.  

_Of course we haven’t._ Louis thought miserably, as he picked as his rosemary chicken.   _We never talk about anything_.    

The worst part was that he’d thought seriously about asking Harry to visit for a couple of days, between Christmas and the new year.  He’d been on the verge of doing so several times while they were preparing for their potions presentation the past weekend. They’d been having such a nice time working together, like they always did, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he’d miss Harry over break even though it was only two weeks.  His heart raced and his palms went sweaty whenever he’d actually gotten close to asking, though, so he’d chickened out.

It would have been such a big deal to Louis, Harry meeting his family.  He felt guilty thinking back to it because at the time he’d been primarily worried about being embarrassed by them, not about scaring Harry with how serious he wanted things to be.  Harry had met Lottie, she was a second year, but the rest of his sisters were still too young for school.  It seemed like it might be overwhelming for Harry to stay with Louis’s big, weird wizarding family in a drafty old Slytherin mansion when he was used to the muggle world.

_He’d have made fun of me about the living room when my mum wasn’t around._  Louis thought, as Zayn and Perrie babbled on about how they were going to go sledding together on New Year’s Day.  Harry had a great love for taking the piss out of Slytherin interior design conventions, of which Louis’s mother happened to be a true devotee.  Louis could just hear Harry’s voice in his head.   _What comfortable stone furniture, Louis!_  He’d say, ignoring Louis’s happy protests about the overabundance of pillows that covered the granite settee and easy chair.   _What beautiful wrought iron sconces, too._ With a gesture to the lamps on the walls and a giggle. _So cozy and warm…_  And all the while, crowding closer and closer to Louis with twinkling eyes, obviously preparing to kiss him.  

_Fuck._  Louis sighed deeply and speared a roasted potato with his fork.  Distancing himself from Harry didn’t keep him from thinking about Harry at all. In fact, it just made him think about Harry more.

He’d lain awake in bed the night before, wondering what Harry’s family was really like and trying to imagine what kind of chic and modern muggle house he had grown up in with his clever older sister.  He’d woken up early in the morning from a dream in which Harry had held his hand and asked him to visit over Christmas hols with giant hearts in his eyes, reassuring Louis that he wanted him forever over and over again.

_That obviously won’t be happening anytime soon._ He told himself, as pudding appeared on the table.  Key lime pie.  Harry’d made it with his Gran once, Louis knew.  He couldn’t resist stealing a quick glance at Harry over his shoulder, his heart clenching at the soft look on Harry’s face as he looked down at his dessert.  Louis turned quickly away, setting his fork down in frustration. _For fuck’s sake.  I’m getting emotional over baked goods, now.  Pathetic._

He bolted his pie in hopes that he could escape back to the dungeon before everyone else was done eating, therefore avoiding Harry for just a little bit longer, but he was still taking his last bite when he felt Harry’s familiar hand come to rest on his shoulder.  Louis couldn’t help but melt right into the touch. He shivered out a sigh and pushed down his guilt over ignoring his boyfriend all day.

“Hi love,” Harry whispered, smiling when Louis looked up at him.  He squeezed Louis’s shoulder affectionately and Louis’s heart lurched.  He loved the weight of Harry’s hands whenever they were on him, strong and warm and gentle. 

“Hi,” he murmured back, unable to resist silently requesting a kiss with the angle of his upturned face.  Harry obliged him gladly.

“Do you want to come to the library with me?” Harry asked, adjusting his books under his arm. “Study a bit?”

“I’m just going to head back to the dungeon, I think,” Louis said, trying to ignore the pang in his heart when Harry’s face fell.  He angled his body sideways on the bench, so he could see Harry without craning his neck. “It’s just -- I’ve got magical creatures and transfig tomorrow, and I really need to concentrate.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry said, reluctantly accepting Louis’s excuse.  He bit his lip. “You’ll still come on Friday though, right?”

Harry and Niall were throwing their annual Pre-Christmas Hols Celebration Party after everyone’s exams were over that weekend.  Harry was extra excited about it because they had distilled a new kind of firewhisky, and Niall had smuggled in some crates of excellent butterbeer from Hogsmeade.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Louis said quietly, nodding. He could feel Zayn watching the two of them, and it made him squirm a little, the hair standing up on the back of his neck.  

“Good,”  Harry said, looking a little relieved.  He kissed Louis one more time and then said goodnight, and Louis tried to pretend he didn’t notice the worried look Harry cast at him over his shoulder as he left the hall.  

It didn’t stop him from turning back to the table and burying his face in his arms, though.

“You okay, Louis?”  Zayn asked, still only halfway finished with his dessert.  

“I’m fine,” Louis snapped, the fabric of his robes muffling his voice enough to soften the shortness of his tone.

“All right, but if you wanna talk --” 

Louis sat up again and shook his head. “No, it’s okay,” he said, stretching his neck a few times before he stood up.  

_It’s Harry you should talk to._ His subconscious chided, Harry’s anxious expression as he walked away replaying in Louis’s mind. _You aren’t being fair_.

He wanted to talk to Harry and tell him how he felt, but every time he thought about actually doing it seemed impossible, like his fear was insurmountable.  He’d spent the better part of the morning half-wishing that Harry would corner him in a corridor and force him into it, that he would demand to know what was bothering Louis so Louis didn’t have to bring it up himself. He knew he was being immature and irrational, but he couldn’t stop.

_Tomorrow._  He thought.   _After my exams.  I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow._

“I have to study,” he mumbled to Zayn.  

He wandered back to the dungeons, hoping he would truly have the resolve to talk to Harry like he intended.  

Two days later, Louis was lingering by the refreshments table at Harry and Niall’s Party all by himself, and he definitely still hadn’t found the strength to talk to Harry about what was bothering him. He frowned, sifting carefully through the Bertie Bott’s because he’d just eaten a sand flavored one and didn’t fancy a repeat.  He took a chance on what looked like a watermelon.  It turned out to be aphid. Typical. Louis took a cringing sip of his firewhisky and turned back around to face the room.

There were clusters of students all around him, merrily half-pissed and happy to be finished with their exams, and Louis should have been making an effort to take part, but he just couldn’t motivate himself to do so.  He’s mood had only deteriorated further as the week went on, and watching Harry across the room as he entertained Dashiell Hersch and a gaggle of Gryffindors with some kind of clearly hilarious story wasn’t helping matters much.  

_Has he ever snogged Dash?_ Louis wondered, twisting to snag one more Bertie Bott’s bean.   _Just one more thing you know nothing about…_

He’d been cataloguing these types of things all week, stuff about Harry he didn’t know.  Adding them to the list.  Louis didn’t know about Harry’s summer apprenticeship, or what he was doing for Christmas hols.  He didn’t know whom Harry had snogged, or slept with, or if he’d ever been in love. Or If he even wanted to be in love, like Louis was with him.  It wasn’t fair to Harry and piled more guilt on top of Louis’s festering insecurity, but Louis couldn’t stop.  

He also couldn’t stop how his escalating guilt was making him avoid Harry more and more as time went on, because he was ashamed of himself. He’d begged off walking to the party with Harry, and he hadn't even been able to make full eye contact with him since he'd gotten there. It was a vicious circle, and it made Louis feel overly dramatic, like he was on the verge of ruining his own life.

_I’m such a shit.  I’m a miserable person_. He tugged at his collar and ate another bean (plain yoghurt), looking away from Harry and Dash and taking in the rest of the room.  

It turned out that Harry and Niall held all of their parties in the Room of Requirement.  It made sense, but Louis had been somewhat disappointment when he found out.

“I thought you guys had some kind of super, top secret, very cool party lair,” he said, when he’d first come to one, the month before. “Isn’t this a little frivolous of a ‘requirement’?”

Niall had been utterly horrified. “Um, students require parties, Tommo. That is a real, legit need, okay? Like, what do you think?  This castle doesn’t want us to be able to relax!? Plus, it _is_ a super, top secret party lair!” he moved hands around his head, miming some kind of bizarre thinking cap, “‘cause you gotta be in like, the right sorta celebratory mindset to get the best kind of party room t’show up.  It is not that easy, let me tell you!”

Niall was apparently the best at conjuring up the “sickest party zones” as he liked to call them, but he let Harry do the job for the Christmas one because his seasonal decorations were always so lovely and the furniture comfortable but still aesthetically pleasing.  

Louis sighed as he looked at the pretty Christmas tree with it’s angel tree topper, the fairy lights that crisscrossed the walls, and the red and green and gold garlands that were festooned to the rafter beams.  There was so much holiday cheer, but he didn’t feel cheery at all.  

He felt almost despondent as he let his his gaze drift back over to where Harry stood at the far end of the room.  The rest of the Gryffindors had dispersed, and Harry and Dashiell were by themselves now, deep in conversation.  Harry had bent forward slightly to hear the other boy over the din of the party, and Louis felt a little flash of jealousy from their body language alone, but what happened next made such a powerful surge of it flood through his body that he nearly choked.

Mistletoe.  Harry and Dashiell Hersch were under the mistletoe, and Dashiell had just noticed, pointing up to it with a hopeful look on his face.

Harry blushed.

Louis didn’t stay to watch.  Everything about being around other human beings felt so awful all of a sudden. The room was too crowded and loud and warm and full of boys who wanted to kiss his boyfriend and might have already done so the past.  His boyfriend who he didn’t deserve, not with how he’d been acting since Monday.  Louis had to get out.

He threaded quickly through the crush of bodies as he fled toward the door, yanking it open and taking a gasping breath as he burst into the corridor.

Louis regretted the decision as soon as the door to the room disappeared behind him, vanishing with a quiet pop. Guilt and shame washed over him anew. He’d just made everything so much worse, because he hadn’t even told Harry he was leaving, and he certainly wasn’t in the “right sorta celebratory mindset” to get the door to reappear.

_Shit. Oh shit._ He thought as he sat down under the musty tapestry on the opposite wall from where the door had been.  It was after curfew and Louis knew it would be better to head back to the dormitory if he didn’t want to get everyone caught, but he was too upset with himself to do much of anything at the moment.  He felt miserably lovesick and hopelessly childish as he stared down at the floor. 

It wasn’t as if Harry would actually kiss Dashiell Hersch, Louis knew.  It was just that everything was so overwhelming suddenly -- all of Louis’s feelings and questions.  He’d never understood before, why people seemed to act so irrationally about the people they were in love with.  He’d had no idea how deep the emotion could run, no one had warned him!  Liam’s embarrassing love notes to Sophia whenever they broke up didn’t seem quite so silly any more.  Well, the content still did, yes. But the gesture.  Louis could understand that now. He could understand how Liam couldn’t help himself. 

One of the worst things about the whole week was that avoiding Harry had obviously meant that he hadn’t really been able to talk to him. Louis’d gotten so used to telling him about everything, so quickly.  He told Harry funny little things about his day, but he also told him about anything and everything that was stressing him out, and Harry always listened like it was the most important thing in the world, no matter how insignificant it might seem to anyone else.  And now it was Louis’s feelings for Harry that were stressing him out most of all, and his insecurity was preventing him from being able to tell him about it. Louis had taken his greatest source of comfort away from himself. 

He swallowed hard, struggling to take a deep breath.  Louis missed Harry.  He had been holding back from Harry for less than a week and he already missed him so much.  He didn’t just miss telling Harry about his problems, he missed hearing Harry’s too.  It was like half of his lungs were missing and he couldn’t take a full breath without him.  It didn’t feel right, everything hurt.

_I have to talk to him._  Louis told himself. _As soon as I can.  I will.  I’ll tell him._

The opportunity to do so presented itself much more quickly than Louis had expected, as the next second Harry was out the corridor too, standing pigeon toed in front of him.  The relief on his face upon seeing Louis immediately gave way to worry and confusion.

“Is -- is something the matter?” Harry asked quietly, shifting awkwardly and chewing on the inside of his lip.  He didn’t make a move to sit down.

All of Louis’s determination to confess to Harry about his hopes and fears disintegrated again as soon as Harry spoke, Louis’s anxiety and guilt rising up out of his gut and closing off his throat. He shrugged, feeling small and hopelessly immature because he couldn’t bring himself to look at Harry in the eye.

“Only, you didn’t even tell me you were leaving?” Harry said. His voice rose at the end, so it came out like a frustrated question, and Louis folded even further in on himself, staring resolutely at the floor.

Harry just kept fidgeting in front of him when he didn’t respond, momentarily unsure what to do. “Was it Dash?” He asked nervously, finally dropping to the floor next to Louis. “Because I swear, Louis, nothing happened. Nothing would ever…”

Louis’s heart was aching.  He shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “I know…”

They sat together in silence for a moment, the only noise the sound of their breathing and the slight rustling of Harry’s clothes as he continued to fidget.

“Have I done something else wrong?” Harry finally asked, his voice tight with emotion. It made Louis ache even more and pushed him closer to the point where he might just burst into tears any second.

“No, Harry, I…” He began slowly, having no real idea what he was going to say or how he should begin.

“Well, it feels like I must have, Louis!”  Harry blurted out, with an edge of desperation, and Louis turned to look at him with wide eyes. “You haven’t -- I mean.  I feel -- I feel like this whole week…” Harry went on, his voice dropping into a sad, hushed tone. His mouth was turned down at the corners and his shoulders were slumped. “Did you not want to come? Tonight?  I-I know I pressured you, but… I swear you could have said no…  I wouldn’t have minded.” 

Louis shook his head violently, staring down at his shoes again. “No,” he whispered, clearing his throat.  “No, I wanted to be here.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry whispered back, clearly unconvinced. He took several deep breaths like he was gearing up to say something, like he needed to gather all his courage to do it, and Louis’s pulse started racing. “Are you like -- are you…” Harry continued, his voice trembling wretchedly.  “Um.  Are you getting sick of me or something?”

“What!? No!” Louis yelped in horrified disbelief, practically wrenching his neck, he turned back to Harry so quickly. He’d never had such a bolt of abject terror strike him directly in the heart.  This was an absolute disaster, he’d been so awful.  He grabbed Harry’s hands immediately and looked right into his eyes, his stomach churning with remorse. “No! No. Absolutely not! No, Hazza, No, of course not.”

Harry looked marginally relieved, but also skeptical, and Louis’s heart sank as he fully realized how utterly confusing his increasingly distant behavior must have been for Harry over the past few days.  He’d known he wasn’t being fair, but seeing the confirmation that he had clearly been hurting Harry’s feelings made him feel absolutely terrible. It was the worst feeling imaginable. The idea of having caused Harry pain made Louis’s sternum ache so much it felt like it might snap in half, almost like it already had.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis murmured desperately, still clutching Harry’s hands, his own gone clammy with sweat. “I’m so sorry…  I should have -- I mean, haven’t been losing interest or -- or anything like that. Not at all.  I’m so sorry for how I’ve been acting.  I should have talked to you. I should have --” He winced.  “I’m sorry. It’s was just -- I’m not sure how to explain, really.  I’ve -- I’ve just  been… um. Concerned… about some things, lately,” he finally admitted.

“Concerned?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and worrying his bottom lip.

Louis let out a long sigh. He grimaced and let out a reluctant half-laugh.  “Okay, um. Yeah. Scared -- scared is probably a better word for it.”

“Of what?” Harry’s face was mostly shadow since the corridor was dark, but Louis could make out his big doe eyes and the troubled slant of his brows above them in the moonlight. 

Louis laughed nervously again. “Oh God. I don’t exactly know how to explain…” he took a deep breath. “You know the other day, after our potions exam, when Professor Argento mentioned your apprenticeship?” he asked.  

Harry nodded.

“I didn’t -- I like, didn’t know about that,” Louis continued carefully, trying to keep too much emotion from edging into his voice.  Trying to keep the tears of frustrated embarrassment at bay and barely succeeding.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, like he wanted to explain, but Louis kept right on going.  He didn’t want to lose his momentum now that he’d found the fortitude to start.

“And like, that’s fine, I guess.  You -- you don’t have to tell me everything...” he said, frowning and rubbing at his brow.  “Ok, um. No. That actually -- that was the problem.  ‘Cause I, er-- I realized that I do want you to -- to tell me things about like, your plans for the future and stuff.  Specific plans.  Your specific plans.  I want that a lot…  I want to tell you mine when I have them. And I want -- like I still want to know you after we leave this place, Harry… so much,” Louis voice had grown thicker as he’d gone on, and he finished in a choked whisper, “and I guess, hearing about the apprenticeship like that, it made me think, like, what if -- what if he doesn’t want that too…”  

Harry had turned his body in toward Louis, so he was looking directly at him.  He was just staring straight at Louis with his mouth hanging opened slightly, his beautiful face awash in the pale light from the moon. He looked stunned.  He didn’t say anything. 

“I should have talked to you about it right away… ” Louis mumbled apologetically. His heart was slowly sinking at Harry’s reaction. Clearly they weren’t on the same page after all, just like he’d feared. “Instead of -- instead of pulling away. I just felt -- I felt scared of getting hurt, and I’m really sorry.  Then I saw you with Dash under the mistletoe and I overreacted.”  

_Pulling away_. Louis thought.  He didn’t see how he could avoid that now, not when he’d already begun to care for Harry so much. Not when he loved Harry, and Harry didn’t feel the same. It was self-preservation, is what it was and would have to be. He felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes, he hadn’t truly understood how high his hopes had actually been until they’d been disappointed.

Their hands were still tangled together in Harry’s lap, and Louis wanted to take his back, intending on fully collapsing in on himself in humiliation, but Harry’s fingers tightened around his when he tried to do it.   

“I am so relieved,” Harry choke out in a whisper. His voice was hiccoughing and wet.  The hand that wasn’t clutching Louis’s came up to cover his crumpled face. “God, Louis. I thought  --” He took a deep shuddering breath and shook his head, “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

“Oh my God, Harry. No,” Louis moaned, feeling like he would never forgive himself. He pulled Harry toward him by the wrist and pressed soft, sorry kisses to his cheeks and temple and forehead. “I would never.  I would never.”

“Good,” Harry murmured, giving a forlorn chuckle and wiping at his nose. His red rimmed eyes were completely dialed in on Louis’s. “Good. Because I do want that with you -- making plans, I want that too.”

“You do?” Louis asked, blinking rapidly in response.  His heart was pounding, and he felt like he might burst into tears, this time from the relief of it all.

“Yes,” Harry said, nodding rather bashfully, “so much.”

His cheeks had gone a soft pink, and Louis thought there was nothing more adorable or endearing than when Harry felt shy. It made Louis want to hug him tight and kiss him all over his face, all over again.  Louis loved Harry, and he really liked him too.

“I’m sorry, too, ” Harry went on, squeezing Louis’s hand. “I’m sorry about St. Mungo’s.  I should have told you.  I wanted to -- to tell you, but I was… I was scared too, really.  I do wish you had talked to me, but I-I was afraid, too, of like, overwhelming you, I guess…  Like, I know I’m your first boyfriend, right?”

Louis nodded.

Harry gave another shaky chuckle. “I wasn’t sure how -- how serious you wanted things to be? I mean, I know how I feel about you, and like, what I hoped you wanted. Or -- or what I hoped you might, maybe eventually want… but I didn’t want to pressure you or anything,” His expression was pained, “or like, scare you off or something.”

“How -- How do you feel about me?” Louis stammered out in an ardent rush.  He felt slightly ridiculous asking so directly, but he was so desperate to know.  He was suddenly full to the brim with hope, and he could feel the beat of his heart, strong and insistent at every pulse point. He was barely breathing. 

Harry gave Louis a look, like it should be obvious.  He laughed nervously and squeezed Louis’s hand again. “I’m crazy about you, Louis. I-I -- I’m probably more than a little bit in love with you, actually.”  

Louis’s heart swelled so much it felt like it was spanning the width of the corridor.  He was flushed with pleasure and could barely see, he was smiling so big. “Yeah?”

Harry nodded, grinning back and looking slightly tear streaked but utterly radiant at Louis’s response.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered. He leaned in and pressed their lips together in a short, sweet kiss that made Louis gasp, he was so sharply happy.  “I love you, Lou.”

“I love you, too,” Louis whispered back. “That’s why I was so scared.”

The next thing he knew, Harry had toppled him over and was kissing him senseless in between fits of joyful, breathless giggles. 

Eventually Harry rolled onto his back next to Louis, and Louis apologized again until Harry shushed him. They laughed even more about declaring their love for each other on a grubby corridor floor under the famously hideous troll ballet tapestry.

“It’s all very romantic,” Harry said. “See, I had this planned.”

It reminded Louis of why he’d come out there in the first place, and he fell quiet, his earlier insecurity about Dashiell Hersch creeping back.  His first instinct was to tamp it down and try to ignore it, but then he reminded himself of how that had just gone for the both of them.  He didn’t want to hurt Harry again by keeping things from him.  Louis never wanted to go through something like that ever again, if he could avoid it.

“Have you --” he started tentatively, turning to onto his side so he could look at Harry where he was stretched out on the worn carpet in the dark, “have you ever kissed Dashiell Hersch?”

Harry snorted and barked out a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth as the sound echoed down the corridor. “You think I’d snog a Gryffindor?” he asked, all falsely affronted.  “What do you take me for?”

Louis made a grumping noise and pinched Harry’s flank, but he was smiling in spite of himself.  It was so nice having Harry back.  “I’m being serious, Harold!” 

Harry turned his head to look at Louis, his eyes soft. “No, I know,” he said.  He took Louis’s hand and scooted closer. “I know, Sorry.”

“Well...” Louis prompted.

Harry laughed again. “Well, what specifically do you want to know? To start with, I have not, nor will I ever, kiss Dashiell Hersch.”

“How many people have you kissed?”  Louis asked, scratching at his nose, self-consciously. He was pleased about the information about Dash.  

Harry pulled a face like he didn’t know, laughing more as he considered it. 

“That many?” Louis asked in mock outrage, swatting at him.  

Harry continued to laugh silently. “I had a big summer between fifth and sixth year,” he explained.  He shrugged. “Lots of muggle parties where I had too much to drink…”

“And you’ve kissed boys and girls?”

“Mhmm,” Harry said, his lips quirked, “but then only boys as time went on.”

Louis didn’t say anything for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he let the information settle in.

“Well -- So, how many people have you like, done more than that with?” He asked, finally. “More than snogging?”  

“Four,” Harry said quickly.

“Including me?”

Harry nodded.

“Have you slept with anyone?” Louis thought he knew the answer, but he felt strangely nervous all the same, staring at Harry with a crease in his brow. 

Harry nodded. He held up some fingers.

“Two?” Louis asked, he laughed nervously. “Am I allowed to ask who?”

“Sure,” Harry whispered, leaning in and kissing Louis on his forehead. He rolled his eyes, apparently at himself, and then started to ramble a bit. “First, I had sex with Kevin Bonneville a couple of times at the end of fifth year.  Do you remember Kevin? Two years ahead of us, in Hufflepuff with me? Oh, right! He played Quidditch, of course you do. Anyway, it was a bit of a disaster every time, we should only ever have been friends. But we were both… um. Curious.”

“And?”  Louis pressed.  He tried not to laugh, just thinking about Harry and Kevin snogging. He felt oddly devoid of jealousy about it, they clearly did not make sense together.

Harry laughed, his cheeks turned pink again. “And, I -- I slept with one of my older sister’s friends last summer… Marty Reyes, he’s a muggle.”

Louis did feel jealous now -- a twisty, stabby feeling in his heart.  Harry’s voice was so fond.  Too fond for Louis’s liking.  

“Well, how many times have you been in love?” He demanded, rather hotly.  He blushed furiously as soon as the words were out.

Harry’s eyelashes fluttered, and he blushed further as well, chuckling with his dimples deep. “Just the once,” he whispered. 

Louis made a soft sound in response, almost a whimper of pure happiness.  Then they were pressed together again, Louis quickly straddling Harry’s hips and kissing him deeply.  He poured all of his pent up emotion into it, all of his gloriously requited love, and he hoped Harry could feel it.

They broke apart when Zayn’s voice came from the other side of the corridor, highly amused but equally unimpressed. “Get a room, maybe?” he said, chuckling with Perrie as they walked toward the stairs, obviously heading back to Ravenclaw for the night.

Louis and Harry lay huddled together, Louis laughing sheepishly into Harry’s chest, for a little while after they’d gone.

“Should we go back inside, then?” Louis asked. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for a party, but he certainly wasn’t ready to say goodnight, and the longer they stayed in the hall, the more likely they were to get caught breaking curfew.  In fact, they were fairly lucky they hadn’t been already.

Harry hummed out his agreement, squeezing Louis’s hips once before they both clambered to their feet.

They held hands as they walked back and forth in front of the space in the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement always showed up.  Louis was so full of love, so distracted by thoughts of Harry, that he was almost surprised that the door appeared so quickly -- heavy oak with a dented brass doorknob.  

Harry smiled down at Louis and raised his eyebrows before gently pushing it open.

Louis’s blinked in confusion once he had stepped inside. He glanced up at Harry for clarification, but he looked just as surprised. This was definitely not Harry and Niall’s Christmas Party Celebration room, not at all.  While there was still a crackling fire and small touches of holiday decoration around the room, it was dominated by a very large, very comfortable looking bed, with a Slytherin duvet and Hufflepuff pillows, and Harry and Louis were all by themselves.  

“What…” Harry began, his voice trailing off as he looked around.

It took a few more seconds before Louis realized what had happened.  His eyes alit on the little phial of lube and box of condoms on the nightstand next to the bed, and his face turned bright red.

“Er -- Haz,” He said.  He giggled and nudged Harry with his shoulder, gesturing toward the items.

Harry’s cheeks went even redder than Louis’s when he saw, and an apologetic deluge of words came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Oh my God! Louis, I swear!  I swear I wasn’t thinking about that out in the corridor! Well, I mean -- I mean, I wasn’t thinking just about that. I’m so sorry.” He had one of his big hands covering his face in mortification. “I was just thinking like, about -- about how I wanted to be alone with you, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do...”

Louis should have probably stopped him sooner, but Harry was being so endearing that all Louis did was stand there watching him, mostly likely with the dopiest look of fondness on his face.

“Harry,” he said, after Harry had finished.  He laughed as he took Harry’s hand, gently tugging it off Harry’s face and holding it in both of his own. “It wasn’t just you, you nerd.”

“What?”

“Look at all this stuff,”  Louis said, still laughing. He pointed out the bedspread and the pillows, and the strange painting above the fireplace of a snake and a badger sitting under a tree reading a book together.  (That one must have been mostly Harry)

“Ohhhh,” Harry said. There were soft notes of wonder and happiness in his voice as the reality of the situation dawned on him. “Oh look, even the bookends!” The heavy brass bookends on the nice built-in shelves on the far wall were also in the form of the Slytherin and Hufflepuff house animals.

“I wanted to be alone, too.” Louis explained, going up on his tip toes and kissing Harry on the cheek.

“I kept thinking about how much I love you,” Harry said softly, and then Louis had to kiss him right on the mouth after murmuring that he loved Harry in return.

“Slytherpuff House,”  Harry said, with a proud, giddy laugh when they broke apart. “That’s where we are.  Super special suite at the Slytherpuff House Inn.”

All Louis could do was look up at Harry with stars in his eyes as he laughed.   _Slytherpuff House_.  Harry was being a dork on purpose because he knew Louis loved it.  

“You are so unusual, Styles.” Louis said, as he led him over to the bed.  They sat on the edge of it, their bodies turned towards each other, and Harry beamed at Louis, adorably delighted at having been called unusual.

“I do want to,” Louis whispered hoarsely, his heart thumping as he took Harry’s hands again and nodded toward the nightstand. “I want to a lot.”

He watched Harry closely as his words washed over him.  A mottled flush spread across Harry’s face and a visible shiver ran through his body as their meaning settled in. 

“Are you sure?”  Harry asked, when he’d collected himself.  His eyes looked bigger and rounder than Louis had ever seen before.

Louis nodded solemnly in response.  He was very sure.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said, taking a deep breath and teetering back and forth on the bed a little, like he was still trying to calm himself down.  

The fact that Harry seemed nervous soothed Louis’s own anxiety somewhat, and he leaned into Harry, pressing their foreheads together and placing one of his hands on the back of Harry’s neck.

“It’ll be good,” He reassured Harry. “We’ll be okay.”

“I know. I know it’ll be good. But...” Harry said. He let out a breathy, jittery laugh, his eyes fluttering closed. He cleared his throat and blushed, opening them again. “How -- how do you want to do it?”  

The heat that had been simmering in Louis’s stomach flared up and spread throughout his chest at Harry’s words.  They were really going to do this, he was going to have actual sex with Harry, and the realization made his already racing heart skipped a beat.  

His mind flashed back to that day on the Quidditch pitch again -- to Harry, stark naked in the mist, how lovely his body had looked and how much Louis had wanted to stare at his nice, thick cock.  Louis knew now that he’d wanted Harry to fuck him even then, although he couldn’t admit it to himself at the time.  

“Want -- want you inside me,” he said, crawling into Harry’s lap and laying him out on the fluffy duvet so he could straddle Harry’s hips.  He whispered right into Harry’s ear. “I want you to fuck me, Styles.”

“Lou,”  Harry whined beneath him, squirming slightly and gripping Louis’s hips. They broke into quiet laughter about the desperation in Harry’s voice and then just smiled at each other for a minute, letting a pleasant, building tension fill the air between them.  Louis’s heartbeat was at a gallop.

“Well, we are going to need to remove our clothes...” Harry said at last.

He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was some sort of sexual point of order, and Louis let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back in delight. When he looked down at Harry again, he saw the same pleased, proud expression that Harry always seemed to get when he made Louis laugh, and Louis had to screw his eyes shut for a few seconds because he felt such a powerful upwelling of affection for him.

“Hey,” Harry said, rubbing his hands up and down Louis’s arms. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” Louis hummed, opening his eyes again and nodding. “It’s just a lot, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I know.”

Harry sat up and maneuvered them around so Louis was laid out beside him with their legs in a tangle, feet still hanging off the bed.

“We have plenty of time.  There -- there will always be other chances,” Harry murmured, nuzzling into Louis’s neck and then planting wet little kisses along his jaw.  Louis shivered at the sweet, buzzing sensation it sent through him.  He fisted a hand in the soft fabric of Harry’s jumper to tug him closer. “So if it’s too much, and you decide you want to stop --”

“I know,” Louis said, cutting him off. “I know, Harry. I trust you.”

It was a luxury, having Harry spread out next to him, and Louis wanted to touch him everywhere. He kept looking down the long line of Harry’s body as Harry kissed his neck, and it suddenly became terribly and inexcusably offensive that Harry wasn’t naked already. Harry had been right moments before -- first things first -- they should not be wearing any clothing.  Louis wanted skin on skin.  He was desperate for it.  

“Take off your clothes,“ he demanded abruptly.

Harry flopped fully onto his back, snorting. “Oh wow, Louis.  I feel so special, here. The romance!”

“This is not a joke, Styles!” Louis said, frantically.

He sat up on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes, quickly yanking Harry’s off too.  Then he began immediate work on trying to pull Harry’s jumper up and over his head without any of Harry’s assistance, he was too busy laughing at Louis.

Louis gave him a stern look, which only made Harry laugh harder.

“ _Harry_ ,” he said in a drawn out whine, shoving at him in frustration.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said, amusement still clear in his voice. He went up on his elbows, looking impossibly lanky and beautiful and just making Louis want to see him naked all the more. “I will help you,” he said, dimpling, “but you have to kiss me first.”

Louis rolled his eyes and grumbled a bit, but he crawled up the bed until his face was inches from Harry’s, and then he couldn’t resist smiling any longer, Harry made him too happy.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, smiling back.

“I love you, too.” Louis murmured, bring their mouths together with a soft sigh.  Hearing Harry say it out loud and being able to say it back made his stomach flip over and his heart flutter so nicely. Louis hoped the feeling would never go away, no matter how many times they said it.

After the kiss, Harry seemed just as desperate as Louis to take off all of their clothes.  He tugged his sweater and undershirt off in one go, and then quickly helped Louis with his own, giggling and kissing Louis in between.  

Suddenly they were both completely naked and stretched out on top of the duvet together. As Louis’s eyes moved over Harry’s body his heart started pounding again.  Harry was so gorgeous to him, down to the last detail.  Louis loved how Harry’s shaggy curls were spread out behind his head on the pillow like a little lion’s mane, and how his delicate collarbones set off the breadth of shoulders. He loved the dark pink of his nipples, the subtle cobbles of his abs, and the slight amount of pudge on his sides.  He loved how the tops of Harry’s thighs were dusted with fine, light brown hair, and the way it grew in darker and coarser on his long calves. How was it possible to feel affection for someone’s giant monkey feet?  It was. Louis felt it for Harry’s, a little pang in his heart at the sight of them. 

“You are so lovely,” Louis murmured.  He felt full to bursting, of love and lust. He was so incredibly lucky.

Harry smiled at him with darkening eyes.  He slotted a leg between Louis’s thighs, and pulled him firmly up against his body with a hand on the small of Louis’s back. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

So Louis did, pressing even closer against Harry and threading his hands into his curls.  They kissed and kissed until they were both breathless and hard, rutting against each other in a torturously slow rhythm that was setting Louis’s mind on fire with want.  

“Harry,” He whimpered, as another dart of pleasure sparked up his spine at the roll of Harry’s hips. “Please.” 

“Okay. Okay,” Harry murmured, in what was becoming a familiar refrain, his voice shaky with excitement.  He rolled onto his back, stretching out to reach for the phial of lube. When he turned back to Louis, he shuffled around so he was knelt between his thighs and then plucked out the stopper, carefully drizzling some of the slick liquid onto his fingers.

Louis watched with a heaving chest, his eyelashes fluttering when Harry looked up at him. 

“I’ll go slow,” Harry said, moving one of Louis’s legs up slightly for better access, “as slow as you need… Let me know if it’s too much.”

Louis nodded down at him, his breath hitching.  It felt like electricity was moving over his skin, snaking through his body and crackling inside him as Harry’s fingers graze over his erection and down past his balls until his forefinger was gently circling Louis’s rim.

“You’re so beautiful, Louis,” Harry whispered, leaning forward to kiss him on the side of his knee as he finally pressed his finger in.  

Louis’s breath caught a little at the first breach, both at the new sensation and at the reverent way Harry was staring up him, checking to make sure he was okay.  It was so intimate.  It was so much. Louis wanted more.

“It’s -- it’s good, H-Harry,” He stammered out, his arousal coiling inside him as Harry started to move his finger in and out, fucking Louis slowly. He squirmed up off the bed in semi-ecstasy when Harry pressed wet, open mouth kisses to the side of his shaft, trailing them down the sensitive skin on the inside of  Louis’s thigh.

“I’m gonna add another.” Harry said quietly, looking to Louis for confirmation that it was all right.  Louis nodded vigorously.  He almost yelped out in shocked pleasure a minute later when Harry curved the two fingers inside him forward, brushing them against Louis’s spot.

“Oh my God, Hazza,” he moaned, gasping and panting and feeling like he was about to explode. “Oh my God.”

Harry gave a lusty chuckle, his own cock twitching in sympathy, and he repeated the motion with lust-blown eyes.   Louis cast one arm over his eyes in dismay, the other swatting at Harry. “I’ll come, Harry. I’ll come.  Want you inside me first,” he managed to warn.

Harry tucked a third finger inside him then, easing Louis further open. His gaze never left Louis’s face.

“Think I’m ready Harry. Please. Think I’m ready,” Louis practically begged, grinding down on Harry’s hand. He his entire body felt flushed and overheated, the intensity of his arousal so strong it was making his skin feel too tight.

Harry’s eyes flicked down to Louis’s entrance, like he was checking to be sure Louis wasn’t getting ahead of himself.  Then he eased his fingers out of Louis and leaned over to grab a condom and the lube. 

Louis smiled at Harry, watching him. Something fierce and powerful unfurled in his chest at the sight of his boyfriend struggling to open the condom. Harry’s whole torso was covered with a stippled flush, his curls wild and sweaty, cock curved proudly up against his stomach. Harry was so gorgeous and Louis wanted him so, so much.

“Let me,” Louis said, holding out his hand.  Harry gave a sheepish laugh and acquiesced.  He walked forward on his knees as Louis tore the package open and then rolled the condom on, shivering at the breathy little moan Harry let out when Louis slicked his cock up with more of the lube.

“Okay.” Harry said shakily.  He situated himself between Louis’s thighs once more and gave a nervous laugh. “Okay, we are going to do this now.”

Louis laughed softly in return, even though he felt like he was being driven mad with longing.  He rested a hand on Harry’s forearm. “Hey,” he whispered, catching Harry’s eye, “are you all right?”

Harry gave a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “Yeah…  Just -- I c-can’t believe…” a darker blush bloomed on top of the high color already on his perfect cheeks, “can’t believe this is with you… that -- that I get to be your first.”

Their gazes were locked, and Louis wondered if Harry had the same unspoken hope in his heart.  The same little voice echoing in his mind.

_And only._  It said.   _First and only._

He thought Harry probably did.

“I love you,” Louis whispered, he couldn’t say more. He was feeling too much, swamped in emotions and desperate for Harry to fuck him.

Harry responded in kind, and kissed him once on the lips, passionate and bruising, before he lined himself up. The head of Harry’s cock was finally pressed against Louis’s rim, and Louis thought he might faint he wanted this so much.

“T-tell me if it’s too --” Harry bit out as he began to push slowly inside.

“I will,” Louis said, nodding frantically.  He gasped at the stretch, relishing the slow burn of Harry’s thick cock gradually filling him up. “I will. God, Harry.”

Harry’s breathing was coming in jagged, wrecked little pants by the time he bottomed out.  “Fuck, Louis. It’s so good. You are so fit.  So fucking tight. Fuck,” he babbled.

Louis loved the feeling of Harry all around him and inside him so much, he wanted to clutch at Harry, kiss him all over, tell him that he would love him forever.  Most of all he wanted Harry to move.

“Fuck me,” Louis whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke Harry’s face, cupping his cheek. “Please, Harry. Please.”

Harry nodded and began to move at last, thrusting into Louis slowly and joining him a long, drawn out moan at the vivid strength of the sensation. He started to build up a rhythm, fucking into Louis faster and faster, and Louis’s whole body jolted, his back arching off the bed when Harry changed the angle slightly and found his prostate.  His body was thrumming with pleasure that built steadily inside of him with every snap of Harry’s hips.

“‘M not gonna last,” Harry choked out, shuddering as Louis’s nails dug into the meat of his shoulders. “So tight. So fucking hot, Louis.”

Louis couldn’t speak, he was too overwhelmed, too close himself.  He just nodded in agreement, moaning again as he took his hot, stiff prick in his hand and started to wank himself as Harry fucked him.  It was blindingly hot, almost unbearably so, the friction on his cock and the perfect drag of Harry inside him.  He came almost before he knew what was happening, a particularly well aimed thrust on Harry’s part sending him into free fall. He whimpered Harry’s name as his orgasm overtook him, come streaking up to his chest.  

Harry swore under his breath as Louis clenched around him, and he tensed himself, mid-thrust, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure as he filled the condom. He rocked into Louis a few more times, riding out the aftershocks, before collapsing on top of him, a spent, sweaty, absolutely dead weight.

“Harry, you are squashing me!” Louis protested happily, shoving at weakly his shoulder before kissing his curls. 

“Mphm,” Harry replied unintelligibly, not moving a muscle.

“You big oaf.” Louis murmured, trailing his fingers up and down Harry’s back.  He felt so happy and so loved. “You’ve just fucked me and now you won’t even hold me? Unbelievable, Styles.”

Harry finally moved at that, slowly pulling out and rolling off Louis.  He tied off the condom and threw it away before _scourigfying_ Louis’s tummy and chest. Then he flipped the duvet back and flopped down onto the sheets with his arms spread wide open.

“Come to me,” he said, grinning.  He looked absolutely radiant with happiness. “I love you.  I’ll hold you for as long as you like.” 

Louis snorted and crawled into his arms, resting his head on Harry’s chest like it was a pillow.

“I love you, too.” He mumbled, sighing and melting into Harry’s side after Harry tugged the duvet back over them.

“Good,” Harry said, contentedly. And then. “Was that --?”

“It was perfect,” Louis said, kissing Harry’s sternum. The truth of the statement slowly sank in, and Louis felt dizzy for a moment, floundering in a rushing onslaught of emotion.  He’d felt so loved and so safe the whole time.  He was so unfathomably lucky that it astounded him, and a strange sort of dread flashed through his body.

“Do you believe in fate, Harry?” he asked, his voice small and his face still smushed into Harry’s chest.

Harry hummed out a noncommittal response, squeezing Louis closer to him as he considered.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, after a pause. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Louis choked out, his heart in a vise, “what if -- what if we’d never been potions partners? What if I’d always thought -- what if I’d never gotten to know you and always had these stupid ideas about who you were?  What if we never got that chance?”

“But we did, ” Harry pointed out, with a little laugh.

“Yeah, but what if we didn’t!?” Louis said, pinching Harry a little in annoyance.

“Okay, wait a second,” Harry said, softly. He kissed the top of Louis’s head. “Just let me think.  Need to gather my thoughts.”

Louis slumped back on top of him, clutching onto him like he was afraid Harry might just disappear out of existence entirely, now that he was considering how they might never have had a relationship at all.

“I’m not going to say I think that we were fated to be together no matter what, Louis,” Harry said after a minute.

Louis’s mouth dropped open, and he sat up to look at Harry in outrage.  This was not making him feel any better.

Harry laughed quietly and moved his hands around. “Just wait, wait! Listen to me.  I’ll tell you why." 

Louis closed his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows like Harry better get going with this.  

“I like it better, that it wasn’t fate,” Harry explained, “because that means we had a say.  You picked me, that makes me feel incredibly special.”

Louis blushed. He felt himself softening slightly already.  He felt special that Harry had picked him too.

“And there are things I do believe in,” Harry said, taking Louis’s hand and smiling while staring into his eyes. “Like magic.  I believe in magic so much, Louis, and what we have between us is so much bigger and better than fate.  It’s -- It’s real magic that we create together because we’re in love.  And it belongs to us and comes from us, and it’s not from some sort of outside force that pushed us together, and we had no choice in the matter at all.”

Louis swallowed over a big lump in his throat, his heart swelling.  

“Even though it feels that way sometimes, because it fits so right.  We fit so right,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion, “and I’m so glad we met and got to know each other even if it wasn’t necessarily destined to be that way.”

“Feels inevitable to me that I would love you,” Louis whispered back.  

Harry nodded. “I feel the same way about you.”  

Louis leaned forward and kissed Harry, feeling even more lucky to have him now than ever before. He was constantly bowled over by how genuine Harry was, by his thoughtfulness.  He really loved him so much.

“When I was little,” he said, settling back in Harry’s arms and giving a wet laugh, “my mum used to always say that love is the only type of magic people can’t live without, and we’d laugh at her for being stupid, soppy old mummy." 

“But it’s true,” Harry said.

“Yeah.”

“You know, my gran used to say something similar,” Harry said, chuckling. “Whenever we cooked together she’d always say ‘the most important thing is to add a little bit of love to everything you make… it’s the secret ingredient, dear.’” Louis laughed into Harry’s side at the warbly, high pitched voice he gave his gran. “She used to keep this empty little jar with love written in the bottom of it on the window sill above the sink, and sometimes she’d have me pretend to sprinkle it on whatever we were making because I got such a kick out of doing it.” He rolled his eyes, laughing in earnest now. “I found later she read about it in some kind of ridiculous inspirational book she bought at an airport, about some other gran who had done that, so she copied them.”

Louis laughed along with him, enjoying the rise and fall of Harry’s chest underneath him. 

“She always wanted to be folksier than she really was,” Harry said, snorting with fondness.

“I’ve secretly been sprinkling love all over all of our potions this whole term,” Louis teased. “It’s why they all turned out so well, also why we’re in this bed together right now.  You’re welcome.”

Harry cackled. “What, did you forget when we made _Euphoria Elixir_ , then? Thank you for that as well!”   

They had messed up the final step of the brew when they made _Elixir to Induce Euphoria_ back in November.  Harry had tested it, and instead of entering into a heightened state of happiness he’d promptly burst into tears.

“My pleasure,” Louis said, with a giggle.

They were quiet for a minute, snuggling closer together in the bed.  Harry turned out the already dim lights with a flick of his wand.

“Do you want to come to mine over Christmas hols?” Harry asked with a yawn. “I thought for your birthday present I might take you to the muggle zoo in Chester.”

“Yes, please!” Louis said.  He was so excited to be asked he didn’t even bother to reprimand Harry for having sleepily ruined the surprise about the gift.  His parents were never ones for too many muggle destination day trips, they got easily rattled when they were outside the wizarding world, so Louis didn’t really mind anyhow, he had never been to a zoo before.

“Good,”  Harry whispered. “I’ll miss you so much as it is.”

“Me too,” Louis murmured back.

As they drifted to sleep in the dark, dreaming about their future together, Louis knew he’d never been so happy in his whole life.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if made any errors in terms of the parameters of the Harry Potter universe and stuff. I did some internet based research, but it's been quite a while since I last read the books. 
> 
> Thispeiceofmind: I know this didn't quite match the prompt in terms of showing them growing up together, so sorry about that! I hope you enjoyed it anyway!! Happy Summer!!


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